Future Plans
by Pacingincircles
Summary: AU: As he prepares to ship out to the Navy, Fitz and Olivia plan their life for when he returns. Full of fluff and comfort. Ok totally not a one shot anymore.
1. Plans

"Do you ever think about it?" Fitz asked from his laid back position. They were lying on the bed in her apartment, his head on the pillows, her head using his stomach as her own personal pillow.

"Think about what?" she asked, staring at the ceiling fan, watching it rhythmically spin. Running his fingers through the ends of her long curls, he closed his eyes and spoke.

"The future. _Our future_. How we're going to get through this deployment. And your new job. And all of the crap with my brothers and your sisters."

She remained quiet for a few minutes, trying to gather her thoughts. Taking a deep breath, she started, "It's two years. We can manage that. You'll call, and I'll write. We'll make it work. And then you'll come back to me and we'll start our lives." Her tone was almost cheerful, trying desperately to mask her insecurities, her fears, her doubts.

"Are you still mad at me?"

"I know I yelled, but I was never mad at you, Fitz. I'm upset that you're leaving, and that I won't be able to see you, or talk to you, or hold you every day. The irrational part of my brain didn't understand why you would want to leave home and go fight in a war half way across the world, a war people get seriously injured in, a war not all people come home from; but the rational part understands that we need you, that _the_ _United States of America_ _needs you_, and that I'm just being selfish." She took a deep breath and turned on her side to look him in the eyes. "But Fitz, I am _so proud_ of you. You're brave, and selfless, and courageous, and strong. You're thoughtful and smart, and you care, you care so much. You care about everyone, not just about me, or your parents, or brothers; you care about all of the people who died on September eleventh, all of the people directly and indirectly affected. You care about the kids who lost parents, parents who lost kids; the widows, and widowers; the people who won't have their best friends on Christmas this year. And that thought, the thought of you not coming home to me, of spending a single Christmas or birthday without you, it scares me, it haunts me. You're not just my best friend; not just the person I feel most myself around. You're my _hero_, Fitz. And in a lot of stories, the hero dies. And everyone around is left to pick up the pieces. I can't do that. You stole a piece of my soul, and if you don't come back—" her tears began cascading down her cheeks, and he reached down to wipe them away. "If you don't come home to me, if you die, I'll die too. Maybe not physically; but emotionally, spiritually. And that's worse. Feeling like you can't breathe is worse than not breathing. You'll be gone, and I'll be all alone."

He pulled her up into his embrace, her ear pressed against his chest, listening to the familiar beat of his heart. Rhythmic and strong. They laid like that for what seemed like hours before he finally spoke, his voice full of conviction. "I will _always_ come home to you, Olivia. I promise." He ran his fingers through her hair with one hand as he used the other to rub soothing circles along her back. "And when I come home, I'm going to get down on one knee, give you my grandmother's ring, and make up for every lost second. We'll get married and buy a big house; fill it with dozens of kids—girls with your smile and laugh, boys with my charm. They'll all have heads full of curls and piercing eyes. They'll be the most loved kids in the world. And you'll be the best mom any kid has ever wished for. And when they get old enough, we'll tell them about today."

"And we'll tell them about how courageous their father is, and how much I love him, how I can't breathe without him. And we'll teach them how to love with a whole heart. And we'll raise them to be just like you; willing to give the shirt on their back to a stranger in need; to put others first and themselves last."

"And about their brilliant mother; how I adore her and couldn't exist without her. How her smile lights up the world, and expels doubt and fear. How to be both beautiful inside and out. How I fell in love with your mind and intellect. We'll teach them to ask questions, and think independently. To be leaders, to work hard and have fun doing it."

"We'll go to soccer games, and dance recitals. You'll stay up all night in the garage helping them make those exploding volcanoes for the science fair, and I'll read them bedtime stories, and sing them lullabies."

"We'll be the crazy, dysfunctional family that everyone secretly wishes they were a part of. And we won't have the nicest things in the world, but we'll have the most important things. We'll have _love_, and _family_, and a real _home_."

"Promise?" she asked, looking up into his eyes. She needed him to eliminate her fears, to make her feel less vulnerable. She needed to believe in this life, that it was possible, that it could and would be achieved.

"Pinky," he said as he leaned down and kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger. "I love you, Olivia Carolyn Pope. I have always loved you. And I always will love you. These two years will fly by, just you watch."

She laid her head back on his chest and closed her eyes, breathing in his scent, kissing through his sweater right above his heart. He went and got a blanket from the chair next to her bed and placed her back onto his chest. They stayed in that position all night, simply feeling comfort in each other's presence, feeling at peace, finally feeling like they were home. Slowly drifting off into the first peaceful sleep either had had in a few weeks, they dreamed of their future, their future_ together_.


	2. Can't Breathe

She's sitting at her desk staring at her laptop, almost willing the notification that lets her know he wants to Skype to pop up. He said that he'd call tonight. And she's been going crazy ever since. She can't think of anything other than seeing his face and hearing his voice. She's been sitting in the same position for what seems like hours, she's desperate, and she knows that. But she doesn't care. Finally, she turns away, getting up to get a drink from the kitchen, but the second she does, the little red tab pops up and her laptop sings. A smile instantly appears on her face as she accepts the second his picture pops up she can finally breathe, and she loses herself in the conversation. His curls are a little longer and she wishes she could reach out and run her fingers through them. He looks tired and worn down, but he looks so happy and so utterly sexy.

"Hi," he breathes out with a goofy grin.

"Hi." And they revel in the peaceful silence, letting their imaginations take over. Pretending that he's down the street at the office about to come home for the night and not a whole world away.

"How was your week, Livvie?"

She wraps herself up in a blanket, tucking her feet up on the chair with her. "I got a job offer," she says timidly.

"Oh really?" He asks with a wide smile. He's so proud of her, she never ceases to amaze him.

"One of my dad's colleagues, Cyrus Beene. Said he's been hearing things about me and would love for me to join his firm."

"Cyrus Beene wants you?" He asks in shock, realizing what this opportunity could mean for her. She gives him a sheepish grin and shrugs her shoulders, he's the only one she lets herself be this vulnerable around.

"It's about damn time," he says with a smile. "You're taking it right?"

"I don't know. Do I really want to just work at a law firms the rest of my life? I think I want more than that. I want excitement. And adventure. And I want to help people, to fix things."

"Well, I think you should consider it. A good word from The Cyrus Beene could open up a million doors for you in the future."

"I'm considering. But enough about my boring life. Tell me another story."

And he does. He tells her about his first solo flight, the the rush, the high that accompanied it. And the tone of his voice tells her that this, flying planes and sailing, this is what he's always wanted. It's what makes him happy. And she wonders, a silent fear, if she'll ever be able to make him happy. Truly happy.

And he sees the doubt creeping into her eyes. "Olivia. Stop. I love you. And in thirteen months, four days, and seventeen hours I'll be home with you."

She hears a voice in the background, "c'mon Grant say goodbye. We've got new orders coming in." And he gives her an apologetic smile, but doesn't speak. A body comes into view behind him and it looks down into the camera, "hello Olivia," the voice says with a laugh. Fitz pushes him away and looks back at Olivia. "I'll call you when I can. Goodnight sweet baby."

"I love you. Be safe." And almost as an afterthought she adds, "check your mail, I sent you something." But he's gone and the screen is black, and just like that, she's all alone again.

She gets a call in the middle of the night a few days later. Her heart stops when she sees who's calling. Mrs. Grant wouldn't call unless something's terribly wrong. And everything becomes a blur. A mix of repeated "no"s and "Olivia, honey calm down" and "breathe." But she can't breathe, not anymore.


	3. Shattered

**OK kiddies, I have a chem exam Thursday and you're aiding and abetting my procrastination. **

* * *

She sat on the couch wrapped up in a blanket, eyes glued to the TV. She didn't remember how she got to the Grant's house; she couldn't remember what day it was, or what time is was, or what she needed to do the next day. And she didn't care. She heard the door open but it didn't register. "Mom, I just heard. What are they saying? What'd they tell you? What's the news saying?" Fitz's brother looked down at Olivia on the couch and sat in between her and his youngest brother.

John, the youngest Grant brother spoke for both women, knowing that neither was really listening to him, too lost in their own minds. "A plane from Fitz's company was shot down. Two dead and two unaccounted for. No one seems to know anything else."

"But if Fitz was one of the two dead, we'd have gotten a call by now. Right? Right?" He looked back and forth between his mother and Olivia, neither bothering to tear their eyes from the TV, still silent.

"Where the hell is dad?" Will asked as he pulled out his phone as if to call.

"He went down to the Pentagon to see if he could get any information." And they went back to staring at the TV. They watch. And wait. Wait for news, any news. Because this limbo, this not knowing anything, it's unbearable. Ignorance is not bliss, not by a longshot.

Her phone rang, and vibrated, and chimed. But she didn't look at it. She didn't acknowledge it.

"I can't do this. I can't sit here like this anymore. I need—." And she gets up and walks toward the stairs. She stumbles down the hall into his old room, still the same as the day he left for college. Like a museum exhibit. Frozen in time. She closes the door behind her and slides down it, finally letting the tears stream. Her phone starts ringing, and she her rational mind knows she should answer it. She knows her family must be worried. But in this moment, she couldn't care less about anyone else. The irrational has taken over, and she's merely existing right now. He might be dead, or dying. And she can't breathe. She takes the ringing phone in her hand and chucks it at the wall across from her. It shatters into a million pieces, just like her heart and dreams. And then silence engulfs the room.

She gets up and moves to his bed, burying her face in the pillows. They don't smell like him. She lays there in the wretched silence, and cries herself to sleep.

Loud steps up from someone running up the stairs and the door flying open startle her out of her sleep. John runs up to her and shakes her further awake. "Olivia. Olivia. Wake up. Come down stairs." And she pushes the covers off of her and follows him. She makes it down to the living room where Mrs. Grant is sobbing into her husband's chest. Her knees go weak and she feels John grab onto her arm. She's waiting for the three little words. Three little words that will kill her. And the irony of that,_ three little words_. Three words changed her life once before, and they're about to again.

Mr. Grant starts to speak but all she hears is little fragments. "Not his plane." "On the ship." "Has the flu." And she crumbles into the leather chair behind her. She can breathe again. Finally. He didn't die. He didn't leave her. Her lungs fill, and her mind relaxes. It wasn't him, not this time. But it easily could have been. She never thought she'd be thankful for something like the flu, but in this moment she's never been more thankful for anything in her life.

The phone rings and Mr. Grant answers. "Put her on. Dad, let me talk to her." And he's handing her the phone but she can't speak. "Olivia? Baby, are you there?" Her breathe hitches and she finally rasps out a "hi." And she can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. "Where's your phone? I've been calling you for hours."

"Broken," she mumbles.

"I got your letter. And _I love you_, but I have to go. Everyone needs to use the phone. To call someone."

"Warm tea and honey."

"What?" he asks with a laugh. And that sound, the sound of his laugh, it warms her heart.

"For your cold."

"Oh." And as an afterthought he adds, "And Livvie, you need to stop throwing your phone when you get upset."

And she smiles. She smiles for the first time in hours. Because, now she has a reason to smile again. "I love you. Please be safe."

"I will. Now go back to my room and get some sleep."

"How'd you—"

"I know you, Liv. Good night sweet baby." And she smiles again as she hangs up the phone.

"Well, what'd he say?" John asks from across the room.

"He told me to stop throwing my phone when I get upset." And they all laugh, because that's a known fact about her. It's a bad habit, and she needs to stop. But she'd rather have a broken phone than a broken heart. So tonight, she's thankful for that shattered phone. Thankful for shards of glass and plastic, and thankful for the flu.


	4. Magic

**When I fail my chem exam, y'all will all know why.**

* * *

"Hey Grant, you've got another one. Have a nice Christmas." He grabbed the envelope and tucked it away in his bag, as he continued walking to the haul of the ship. He was a man on a mission. Nothing was going to get in his way. Nothing.

He takes his seat and opens the letter.

_My dearest Fitz,  
I'm sitting here, on the couch, wrapped up in that ridiculous pink snuggie you bought last year, staring at the twinkling lights on the tree, trying to let the magic course through my veins. So much of the Christmas magic that I'm used to is tied up in you. I keep thinking of the goofy dance you do as you sing carols at the top of your lungs while we decorate the tree; or how we lay under the tree watching the lights for hours; or how we lay in bed for hours watching A Christmas Story over and over; or how you always insist on making the apple cider and get a little tipsy in the process; or the time you dragged me on that awful horse carriage ride to look at lights and it started raining and we spent most of Christmas day in bed sick; or the time when John accidently lit you on fire at the dinner table. _

_ It's taken me the last year that you've been away to realize that I don't find magic in Christmas; I find it in you, in us, in our families. Mom asked me what I wanted for Christmas last week, and the first thing that came to mind was you. I want you to be home with me. And I know how cliché that sounds, but it's the truth. I thought being separated would get easier; but it doesn't. Whoever said absence makes the heart grow fonder knew their shit. _

_ I have some news for you but I'm not telling you until Christmas. (And since you're not here to tickle it out of me, you'll actually have to wait for once.) I feel like a broken record saying this but, STAY SAFE; and I love you so much. Probably too much, but what's not to love, right?_

_ With all my love,  
Livvie_

_P.S. Since I broke another phone, I lost all my pictures. I'm going to need you to send me the one of us from law school graduation. You know which one I mean, the one with John and Will and Em._

* * *

"Emmalyn, you know I don't know how to ice skate." And she laughs as she loses her balance and jerks backward, catching herself at the last possible second. Gravity is not her friend, not on the ice.

"Gosh Liv, are you sure that you're not drunk?" And they both smile, because in this circumstance, the notion seems plausible. Her jerky movements directly contradicting her usual eloquence and grace. Her sister grabs her hand and drags her around the outdoor rink. Emmalyn skates for a while as Olivia grips the side railing. They return the skates and walk down the street arm in arm, Em's head resting on Olivia's shoulder.

"I've missed you Liv."

"I haven't gone anywhere kiddo." And she smiles down at her sister. "College must have triggered the Pope coffee addiction in you. Let's get a cup, and we can talk." Em smiles at her, happy to be home, happy to finally have her sister back. They pop into the little coffee shop in the heart of Georgetown, and catch up. Emmalyn tells her all about college, and which exams she's sure that she aced and the ones she's sure that she failed. And about a boy she met. And Olivia tells her about her most interesting cases, the funny ones, the unbelievable ones. And they make plans for New Years. And Olivia promises not the leave her alone with their mother for a second on Christmas. They can battle her insanity, her need for perfection. They can do it together, but not alone.

They spend the rest of the day together, shopping, catching up, making each other laugh. And Olivia takes her home, and the Popes have their first family dinner in months. They all laugh, and tell jokes, enjoying the familiar company. But she can tell they're holding back something. Slightly walking on eggshells whenever Fitz's name comes up. And she brushes it off, attributing it to their desire not to drive the knife in any farther than it already is.

They have dessert, and Olivia helps her mother do the dishes as Emmalyn and her father sit at the kitchen table bantering. The mood is light and playful, something that she's missed in the last year. Things feel possible again, she doesn't feel anchored to the ground by fear and loneliness.

She says goodbye, promising not to be late for Christmas Eve mass. She drives home, her mind wondering to Fitz and what he's doing at this moment. And then it wonders to future Christmases. Sitting by the fire together, holding a sleeping infant on her chest as she leans into him. Them wrapping mountains of toys, and him putting their child on his shoulders so he can place the angel on the top of the tree. Smiles, and laughs, and shouts of joy. And baking reindeer shaped pancakes for breakfast, with a strawberry nose, chocolate chip eyes, and bacon antlers. And she drives down the road with a smile on her face.

And before she knows it, she's walking into her apartment. But something's wrong. She didn't leave the tree on, and it's not on a timer. The Christmas tree should most definitely not be lit. She stands there, with her back against the front door, watching, listening, waiting. And a shadow moves down the hallway from her bedroom, and she panics. She's about to run out, to call 911, to scream, but she freezes. And the shadow gets closer, but she doesn't move, unable to move. The panic and wonder paralyzing her. But then it gets closer, impossibly close. And the familiarity engulfs her. It's not a stranger, not someone there to hurt her. It's someone there to heal her, to make her whole again. And suddenly she's not paralyzed anymore, she's dropping everything in her hands, throwing it all to the floor. And she's running toward the shadow. And she launches herself into its arms, and breathes in deep, tears starting to fall. But this time, they're happy tears, tears full of joy, and surprise and elation. They stop spinning, and she looks up into the piercing blueish gray eyes that have managed to captivate her soul, and she smiles. She smiles a real smile, the smile reserved for only one person on this planet.

And he looks down into her eyes. And smiles. He smiles his real smile, the smile reserved for only one person on this planet. "Hi." "Hi." And his lips crash down onto hers, hurriedly, hungrily, passionately.

And she feels the magic again. She breathes it in, and it swirls through her, coursing through her veins.


	5. Her Love

**I've perfected the art of the multitask**.

* * *

They're laying in bed, wrapped up in the sheets, wrapped up in each other. They're silent, because right now, nothing needs to be said. No words are needed. And they lay like that for hours. Him holding her close and her running her fingers through his curls. She likes them like this, they're longer and if its even possible, they're curlier.

The world is finally back on its axis. After months of worry and fear, she once again feels the peaceful calm that only his presence can create in her. And she revels in it. This is what she's wanted for thirteen months. And she doesn't care that he lied. That he told everyone except her that he was coming home. She forgets that she hates surprises, because this, him being here, is the best surprise she's ever received.

And she knows that he'll be gone again. In a few days, or weeks, he'll be back across the world. And her fears will once again replace her peace. But she doesn't care. Not right now. Not in this moment.

"C'mere." And he's pulling her up, out of the warm bed, and toward the living room. He lights a fire and they sit on the couch. And it's officially Christmas Eve. He turns on the tv, looking for one movie. He finds it, and both smile. It's a tradition. And it's at her favorite part. Ralphie's tongue is glued to the pole. And she's laughing, because for some reason, it's the funniest thing she's ever seen. They watch A Christmas Story again. And he makes popcorn as she grabs a bottle of wine.

She falls asleep sometime during their third viewing. And he holds her close. Running his fingers through her hair. But he won't sleep. He can't. He shouldn't be here. He should have been on that plane. That was his mission. But he was sick. He was sick, and his friend took his place for him. And died. It should have been him. And the guilt eats him. Everyday. Every night. All night.

He sits on there on the couch. Watching her sleep, so peacefully, and for the first time something other than the guilt washes over him. Love, love washes over him. He loves her. He loves the way she instinctively curls up into a ball in her sleep. He loves the light snore she makes; she would never believe that she snores, but she does. And he loves it. He kisses her forehead and her lips curve into a smile. It's an unconscious reaction, but means everything.

And for the first time, he's thankful to have been sick. He finally realizes that being thankful to be alive does not equate to being thankful his friend died instead. He's meant to be here. And someday he'll figure out why. He'll understand why he didn't die. And he's ok with not knowing why yet. He's content to just spend the rest of his life with her. As ordinary people, with an extraordinary love. He's always been 'Senator Grant's son', or 'Governor Grant's son', but with her, he's just Fitz. And she's just Livvie, and that's enough.

He closes his eyes and falls asleep. And for the first time in months, he isn't awoken by his nightmare. He's instead awoken by her voice. He follows it's trail into the kitchen where she's emphatically talking into her new phone, one he doesn't recognize. Because the only thing she replaces as often as her wine selection is her phone. And he pulls out a barstool, making his presence known. She turns around quickly, shocked. She gracefully ends the call as quick as possible. But his curiosity is peaked. He's intrigued.

"Who was that?" She smiles as she leans back against the counter.

"Just a friend. A lover really. Can't call them anything else because I already have a boyfriend."

And he laughs. He plays along. "Oh really? Why don't you invite him over? I'd loooooove to meet him."

"Who says its a 'him'?" And he laughs. He's missed this. Their banter and playful ness. The familiarity. He loves it.

They get ready and go to her house for dinner. They'll spend Christmas Day with his family. And her house is full of family. And close friends. And they all ask to hear stories, and he tells them. They eat. And laugh. And celebrate. But then he gets up and walks away from the crowd, Em following him. And she notices, but continues her conversation.

"Are we ready?"

"Yes. Operation Dirty Panda is a go."

He gives her a questioning look. "Dirty Panda?"

"Don't ask. Just go with it."

And they both laugh, him shaking his head, clearly amused. They return to the living room and Em turns on the music and dims the lights as he looks for her in the crowd.

Their eyes meet and she notices fear in his. Not crippling fear like she's become accustomed to, but a twinge of doubt, of insecurity. But he's walking to her, with confidence. And he's taking her hand and reaching into his pocket as he lowers himself.

Her breath hitches when he opens the velvet box, but before he can get any words out, she's saying yes. And he's smiling as he slips the ring on her finger. And she pulls him up, bringing her lips right to his. And everyone's clapping and cheering.

He pulls back. "You didn't even let me ask." And he sounds wounded, but the smile on his face gives him away.

"Just shut up and kiss me." And he does. A little too long, people still focused on them. So he pulls back and playfully whispers into her ear. "Now will you end it with lover boy?" And she's laughing, "Again, why do you assume that it's a guy?" And he laughs with her.

They stumble into their apartment, barely making it inside. And clothes are being strewn everywhere. A trail to their bedroom. And finally, he doesn't feel the guilt anymore, just the love. Just her love. It consumes him, courses through him. Replacing the guilt.


	6. Goodbye

She's using him as her personal pillow and source of warmth. She doesn't want to move, she doesn't want the day to start. If it were possible to stop time by sheer power of will, she'd have stopped it six days ago. He needs to go back, and she knows that. But she doesn't want him to. And he doesn't want to either. So they stay in bed all morning, neither daring to get up and start the clock.

Eventually, they do start the day. She has four hours left, four hours until he leaves again. This time only for four months, but after their last few days together, she's become spoiled. And now, four months seem like an eternity.

He takes her out to lunch, and he brings up the wedding. He knows that she's always wanted a summer wedding. Small and intimate. Completely unique to them. But she's changed her mind. Now she wants a winter wedding; he'll get out of the Navy in December and she wants to marry him two weeks later. And he couldn't be more thrilled. Marrying Olivia Pope had been his dream since listening to her tear him to shreds.

_It was the first week of law school. He raised his hand and commented on a piece of lecture, and this quiet girl in the front, this incredibly petite, fiery girl from the third row called him out on it. She explained why he was not only wrong, but incredibly naive and callous. She called him immature and implied that America didn't need anymore lawyers like him. We were already drowning in his kind. And he listened, and slowly became captivated. It took him two weeks to even get her name, and then a few months to prove to her that he wasn't everything she thought he was. He was, in fact, the complete opposite. And eventually, she saw it. And agreed to go on a date with him. And from there, there was no turning back. And neither had any desire to._

"Liv, are you ok?" She continued to stare into space. "Livvie?" No response. "Earth to Olivia." And he waved his hand in front of her face.

"Huh? What? Sorry."

"Baby, what's going on with you. You've been out of it all day."

"It's nothing. I'm just sad that you're leaving again." She lied. And he knew it, but chose not to push the topic any further.

"You don't want any of your wine?"

"No." And he gives her a questioning look, but moves on with the conversation.

They paid the bill and decided to take a walk through the little park by the water in Georgetown before she had to take him to the airport. He took her hand and laced his fingers through hers, kissing the top.

"This time in 365 days, we'll be married." And she smiled. She loved him for trying to cheer her up. But she wasn't having it. But she put on her brave face and agreed with whatever he was saying.

She hated goodbyes. All goodbyes. But this goodbye, this goodbye was the hardest of her life. Harder than the first time, because she knew what the drive home would be life. And what the quiet, empty apartment would feel like. And what the lonely nights would do to her.

"I love you Fitzgerald Grant." She smoothed out the non existent wrinkles on his shirt and stole a quick kiss.

"I love you Livvie." And he brought her close and kissed her.

"Please be safe."

"Always." And he leaned down for one last kiss.

He moved two steps toward the gate before he quickly walked back over to her. He grabbed her waist and pulled her in, kissing her for real. Hard. Passionate. Like they were the only people on the planet. He broke away and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "And Olivia, I don't want to hear about that lover ever again." They both smiled, playful banter was their thing.

"No promises." And she kissed his cheek before releasing his hand and letting him go. He walked away, but she was stuck in place. The airline representative took his ticket, and he turned around one more time, looking into her eyes. He waved, and she smiled. Slightly returning the wave.

But the second he was out of view, she crumbled into the closest chair, silent tears falling. She sat there for minutes and watched the hustle and bustle of the airport. Finally she decided it was time to get up, and made her way back to her car.

It was quiet. Too quiet. She used to love the quiet, before Fitz came along, but now she hates it. "Hey Em. Have any plans tonight?"

"Do you need a girls night Olivia?" And Emmalyn knew the answer. Because she knew her big sister.

"Yes."

"Let me get some popcorn and a few new movies and I'll be over. Do you want comedy or horror?"

"I think I need a good comedy." She couldn't watch a horror movie. Not now. Not when she was back to living in one. Patiently waiting for the phone call, or knock on the door that would end her. She needed Fitz. But if she couldn't have him, then she needed to laugh. And she needed her sister. She needed a distraction. And not to feel the gaping void of his absence every second of the day.


	7. Dreams

**Ya girl got an a on her chem exam. Let's celebrate **

* * *

"Olivia you need to tell him."

"He has enough to worry about right now Emmalyn. He doesn't need to know about a stupid dream I had."

It didn't matter that the dream felt like a giant kick to the gut. It didn't matter that, that dream, was in fact her worst nightmare. It didn't matter that since having it, the night before he left again, she couldn't breathe; that she was scared every second of the day. A simple phone call set her off. A knock on the door made her jump. She needed to be strong for him. She didn't need him worrying about her and where her mind wondered. She needed him focused. Focused on coming home alive. And not making a single part of her dream come true.

"Liv if it's had you this shaken up for this long, you need to talk to someone about it."

"I am, Em. I'm talking to you."

She gave her sister a condescending look. "You know what I mean Olivia."

"Yeah. I know." And she looked back at her sister defeated. Because truth be told, as much as she tried to act fine, she knew that he knew she wasn't. He could read her like an open book. And he knew, but he let her get away with not telling him. Because he felt guilty, her pain and fear were both his fault. And he hated it.

She's sitting on the bed, laptop on her lap, cases and briefs spread all over. She's been working for hours. But burying herself in work makes her forget. Even for a second. And she needs that. She's been working too much. And she's been avoiding him. And it's exhausting. Every ounce of her is exhausted, but she doesn't stop.

She's reading, and double checking, triple checking everything. Making sure their case is as air tight as it seems. Because that's who she is. She doesn't want good, she wants perfect. She wants to win. And then, her laptop is singing and a red browser pops up, and she can't forget anymore.

She accepts the call, and the second he sees her face, he knows. He knows that whatever she isn't telling him, whatever she's bottling up, is eating her alive.

He doesn't speak. He just gives her a questioning look, eyes full of sympathy and fear. What if she doesn't want him anymore? What if she's done waiting and doesn't want him?

She opens her mouth finally, and what she says knocks the wind out of him.

"Fitz, I can't do this anymore."

And he's looking at her with pleading eyes, willing her to continue.

"I had this dream, the night before you left. And the thought of it, scares the shit out to me. But I need to tell you. To tell someone. And you're all I have. And I need you to be ok. I need you to stay focused and not worry about me. You need to stay safe. Ok?"

And he nods his head. But the fact that she said shit, and didn't reword her sentence to take it out, speaks volumes. Olivia doesn't curse. Not usually. Not unless she's frustrated. Or scared. Or upset. So he just sits there and waits for her to start.

"You're dead and we're all at your funeral. You died a hero, but that doesn't make it any more comforting. And the pastor says nice words, that are meant to comfort. But they don't. And people tell stories about your life, about your childhood. And the good times. And about how you always made them laugh. About how you were always there to help, so selfless and kind. About how you were genuine and idealistic. And it all kills me. Makes me want to die too. How can I live in this world without you?" And she pauses. To take a breath. To get ready for the grand finale.

"But the worst part is, the worst part is the way everyone looks at me. And I get it, they feel bad. But I don't want their sympathy, we don't want it. And I say we because in my dream, I'm pregnant. Probably about to pop any minute. And that's what scares me the most. I can't be a mom, not by myself. I can't be solely responsibly for another life. I can't look into your eyes everyday and not have you here. I can't do it."

And she's crying. But he doesn't know what to say. He didn't hear anything after "I'm pregnant" because that's his dream. To have babies with her. To have a family with her. That's the dream. And he can't miss out on his. He won't. "Olivia I'm not going anywhere. I am not leaving you. I'm not letting you raise any child alone. I'm not. I would never. I promise."

"Fitz you don't know that."

"Livvie, are you pregnant?" And he knows that's not what she needs to hear right now. She needs to be comforted and convinced that her dream will never become reality. But the thought of her pregnant, of them having a baby together, it makes his heart leap. And he needs to know.

"I bought a test but I haven't used it."

"Liv." And she knows she needs to find out. To know one way or the other. They need to know. But she's scared.

"Livvie, c'mon. Please."

And she weakly nods her head and goes to get up. And the five minutes he's waiting, they seem like an eternity. Despite their circumstances, and how much he'd miss, he wants this baby. He's always wanted this baby. And he lets himself hope and dream while she's gone. Dream of late night feedings and cuddles, and smiles and laughter. Of first days of school and graduations. Of scraped knees and school plays. Of soccer games and snowball fights. Of arguments and groundings. Of driving lessons and college applications. Of late night ice cream runs and first heart breaks.

But she comes back and he knows that right now, his dreams will stay a dream. His dreams aren't a reality, not yet. And he's sad, but thankful that when they do become reality, he won't miss a second. Not a doctors appointment or a massage or a late night craving run. He'll be there, and reality will be better than his dreams.

And she sits there, silently hoping that her dream, never becomes reality. That his dream will, but never hers.


	8. Homecoming

**So it takes 15 minutes to knock out a chapter but 15 hours to write a paper. Yeah ok. Totally fair. This is what my procrastination looks like**.

* * *

"Olivia, it's Friday night. Go home. You work too hard." And she looks up at her boss, at the legendary Cyrus Beene, and gives him a sheepish smile.

"I'm almost done with this brief, and then I promise to call it a night."

"Ok. Have a good weekend Olivia. See you Monday." And with that, she's alone. The only one left. And she works for awhile, and absentmindedly looks at her phone, and at the open shopping tab on her computer. She gets up and goes to the bathroom. And she's walking back to her office. She bumps into someone in the dark. They both scream and the unknown figure reaches for the light switch.

Her heart's racing. She thought she was alone. The only one here. And the light finally comes on. "Abby you scared me!"

"The feeling is certainly mutual Olivia." And they both laugh.

"I thought you left a while ago."

"I did. But I forgot my bag so I had to come back." And she's holding up the bag with a smile. "See?"

And Olivia's nodding her head and about to walk back to her office when Abby's voice stops her.

"Hey Liv, I'm heading out to that little bar across the street. Wanna join me?"

"Oh I don't know, I'm not really done with my stuff."

"Not done waiting for a call from lover boy and buying more shoes?"

And Olivia's laughing. Realizing how set in a routine she is. "Ok fine. Give me five minutes to get my stuff put away." And the redhead claps her hands excitedly.

They put on their coats and drop their bags in their cars and go across the street. They sit there for a while, making small talk.

And Abby tries not to mention it. She tries to avoid the subject, but eventually the words just come out. Almost like word vomit. "How's the long distance thing going?"

And Olivia's face falls, but she quickly regains composure. She smiles weakly. "Well, it's definitely going. Two more months of this bull shit and I'm never letting him out of my sight again." And they laugh, and Abby nods her head in agreement, taking a sip of her drink. They talk about the wedding and about who had the best Halloween costume in the office this year, Abby trying desperately to defend her decision to go as Pippy Longstocking.

"I have to pee. I'll be right back." And with that, Olivia's alone. She picks up her drink, takes a sip, and checks her phone. She's staring at her lock screen. Her favorite picture is housed there. A picture of her and Fitz and their siblings. Em is on his back holding a diploma over her head as if in victory, and Olivia has John's head locked under her arm, punishing him for some sarcastic comment. Will is standing in between them doubled over in laughter, the other diploma by his feet. They're all smiling, all happy, all truly happy. And she can't help but get lost in the memory.

But then, a hand is on her back and a guy is asking to buy her a drink. She politely declines but he won't take no for an answer. He's persistent and she's getting annoyed. She tells him to remove his hand from her back but he doesn't listen. "You look sad baby girl, let me change that. Let me make you forget whatever your guy did to make you end up here. I can make you forget."

And now she's pissed. She holds up her hand, pushing her engagement ring in his line of vision. "You're a few years too late, asshole. Take your hands off of me and go away. And while you're at it, just go home. Because you obviously don't know how to pick up a woman. And you really don't even deserve to as a mater of fact. So please just go live your pathetic life in solitude." And her tone startles him; it's harsh and full of malice. He walks away, bumping into Abby on her way back.

"What was that?" And she sits back down but notices Olivia is paying her tab.

"Oh it was nothing. I think I'm ready to go though." They leave together. Walking back to the office garage. And Olivia sees the guy, he's siting by the bus stop alone. And she smiles.

She finally gets home and turns up the heat in her apartment. She strips out of her clothes and runs a hot bath. And she's just finished lighting a few candles and she just sunk into the tub when her phone rings. And she reaches over for it, answering without checking the called ID.

"What?" And her tone isn't playful, she sounds stressed and annoyed.

"Well hello to you too beautiful." He laughs. And now she's smiling, a happy smile but a guilty one too.

"Sorry. Hello Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III, love of my life, captor of my heart, holder of my soul." He laughs and so does she.

"You're silly, but much better. You always know how to stroke the ego."

"Oh hold on a second, I think I'm getting another call." And she pauses for a second. "Yep it's the one you hate. The one you're jealous of, my other lover." He groans and she laughs.

"Well I guess it's a good thing they're sending us home early then. I can't have you running off with some guy before I have the chance to legally stake my claim."

And she's holding her breathe. She thinks he just said that he was coming home, but she can't be sure. She isn't sure of anything anymore. And she's lost in the deep baritone.

She finally exhales. "What did you just say?" And now she can hear the smile in his voice.

"We're coming home. Next week."

"You realize that teasing me like this will result in some pretty severe consequences mister."

"I'm not kidding Livvie. But can I still have those consequences?" His voice is full of seduction and she wishes he was here.

"Depends." And she laughs and he groans again.

"Tell me one thing."

"Ok."

"What are you wearing?" And she laughs, sloshing water back and forth in front of her loud enough for him to hear.

"Come and see for yourself."

"Oh you don't play fair Olivia. Don't make plans for next weekend, you and me will be spending a lot of time in that bathtub."

"I'm not in a bathtub, I'm at the office. Doing paperwork. And prepping cases. And waiting around for Carlos to show up."

"Carlos?" He's confused but thinks he knows where she's leading.

"The lover."

"Oh so it is a guy after all." And they both laugh, getting lost in the moment. And despite the last six months, and all the lonely nights, and doubts, and missing him, she's happy to still be in love. To be more in love than ever before. To be in love with her best friend. And they talk for awhile; she fills him in on her week and the rest of the wedding plans. And he tells her about the kids he got to play soccer with, and the balloon animals he made for them. And the dogs his friends saved. And he sounds happy, but he finally sounds ready for it to be over. To move on. To get married and settle down. To become a father. And to start his law career.

"So next Saturday, I expect you to be standing right where I left you. The moment I walk off that plane I want you in my arms."

"Well I'll see what I can do. But I hope that isn't all you want." He hears the seduction in her voice. And he wishes he was home. He wishes he wasn't half a world away. He wishes he could take her face in his hands and kiss her until their lips were swollen. He wishes he could do more than kiss her.

"Ok you're killing me. Stop twisting the knife Livvie."

"I'll see you Saturday, Fitz. And no funny business this week. You better come home safe and in one piece."

"Yes ma'am."

"And you better not have just saluted me." And they both laugh because they both know that he did.

"Most women think it's sexy."

"Oh do they now?" Her voice dripping with curiosity.

"Oh they do. I'll demonstrate what happens on Saturday, and on Sunday, and probably Monday. And if you're lucky, Tuesday through Friday. And then repeat. I love you sweet baby. Good night."

"I love you too Fitz. Call me when you can."

And she hangs up, a smile still on her face. She's been dreaming of this day for two years. Of the day when he's finally hers again. She won't sleep tonight, because once again, reality is better than her dreams.


	9. One Shirley Temple Please

She's standing in the airport waiting. She checks her watch again. Two minutes have passed since her last glance down. And John looks down at her, he may be younger than her, but he towers over her, as all the Grant men do. They all look alike, the family resemblance is striking, but as much as she loves all the Grants, there's only one Grant she really wants to see in this moment.

"The more you check, the longer it'll feel." And she nudges his side with her elbow.

"When'd you get so smart? I'll always remember the twelve year old you who told me that I was too pretty for Fitz, and too short to be so old."

"Wow, did I know how to make a first impression or what?"

"I'd say that your brother would give you a run for your money in that department. We definitely didn't get off on the right foot."

He understand the reference. And they both laugh, drawing attention to themselves. Will and Em want in on the joke, they want to know the reason for the laughter.

"You just had to be there." And Olivia nonchalantly shrugs her shoulders.

They look over with mock disappointed but understand the special bond John and Olivia share. And Liv looks back down at her watch. Another minute and a half has passed but it feels like an eternity. His flight should have landed ten minutes ago but the rain had different plans. And she's feeling antsy. She needs to see him, to hear his voice, to feels his arms wrap around her, to feel his lips on hers.

But instead, she feels an unfamiliar arm wrap around her shoulders. She turns her head to look into Mrs. Grant's eyes. They're Fitz's eyes too. And the older woman smiles. "Are you ready?"

"I don't think I've ever been more ready for anything in my whole life." And they both laugh. Mrs. Grant nods her head in agreement. "Me too."

They finally sit down, the rain still pouring outside. More and more people have gathered, ready to see their loved ones home. And she looks over at the little boy holding a handmade sign with a welcome home message calling his dad his number one hero. And she looks to a woman holding a new baby.

And she thinks how that could have easily been her. Their baby could have been two months old now and never met its father. And she's glad that will never be the case. She's selfish like that. She wants him there for every second. She wants him to rub her back, talk to her belly, hold her, make her feel safe. And then she wants to be able to squeeze his hand and yell at him for the pain. Tell him that they're one and done. That he's never touching her again. She wants to see the wonder in his eyes as they greet their child for the first time.

She's lost in her thoughts and doesn't realize that she's been staring for too long. She gives the woman an apologetic smile and turns back to look at her family. Will and John are looking at John's phone, whispering, scheming. And they stand up and take Em with them to grab a coffee. Mrs. Grant's phone buzzes, and she notices people starting to get off the plane.

"I'm going to use the restroom. I'll be right back." And she notices the pointed look Mrs. Grant gives her husband. More and more people are filing off the flight and she doesn't notice Mr. Grant slowly slip away. She sees reunion after reunion, and she hears the excited shrieks. Less and less people are coming off the plane now and she's getting worried. Where is he? And she notices that she's alone, and she finds that strange. But before she can question it she feels a tap on her shoulder.

She regretfully peels her eyes away from the gate and turns her head around. He breath hitches and she's frozen. He wraps his arms around her and picks her up, slowly twirling around. His head buried deep in her neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent. And he stops spinning and looks her in the eyes. "Hi."

And she gives him a wide smile. A grin is now and forever will be plastered on her face. "Hi." And with that, he's kissing her. And they don't notice their family sneaking back up behind them. Or the photographer and reporter making their way over, snapping pictures. They're too lost in the moment, lost in each other, lost in their love.

He finally puts her down but doesn't let her go far. He hugs his mom and then both of his brothers and them Emmalyn. He shakes his father's hand and then picks Olivia back up, lacing their fingers, kissing the top of her hand.

Mr. Grant waves the reporter over closer and introduces everyone. "Welcome home sailor."

"Thanks, it's good to be back." And he looks over to Olivia and adds, "great actually." He lays a kiss on top of her head and looks back at the man.

"I just have a few quick questions. I'm working on a piece about military families and your father volunteered you. I hope that that's ok."

And he laughs, looking over at his father. Always the politician. "Ok shoot."

"Give me your best, worst, most surprising, and most embarrassing moment while on board the ship."

He chuckles, trying to think of the perfect moment for each category. "Ok, well for best moment I'm going to have to say receiving letters and pictures from my beautiful fiancée. And I'd like it added to the record that I'm not just saying this because she's standing right here." He squeezes her hand and lays a kiss on her temple as she elbows him in the side. He pretends that her jab actually hurt and leans over, clutching his stomach. And everyone laughs as the reporter scribbles notes.

"Worst moment would probably be the first time I saw what they planned to feed us for dinner each night. I'm diehard Navy, but from what I hear, the Army gets better food."

The little crowd laughs as Fitz pauses to think.

"Most surprising, hmmm. Probably the nicknames the guys would come up with. I was dubbed 'Shirley Temple' pretty early on. Apparently my curls are legendary."

"And most embarrassing is pretty easy. I got all the guys together and we were trying to play a little joke on our direct superior but apparently they got him in on it and turned it around on me. My job was to be lookout so I'm sitting out in the rain for a solid twenty five minutes and someone finally comes to let me know that it was successful and the coast is clear. I walk back to my bunk with a big smile, like man I just pulled off the best prank ever, and I walk into my room and it's completely empty. And I mean everything's gone. Not ever a pair of socks is left. And all the guys are slowly filing in laughing. It took me three weeks to finally get my stuff back. I got 'em back though, every last one of them." And he has a big smile on his face. Everyone laughing still.

He places his arm low on Olivia back and she leans into him. "What do you plan on doing with your spare time now that you're home for good?"

"Well, I'm going to spend every possible moment with my gorgeous fiancée and family. And I'm going to eat. A lot. And drink some good beer. And sleep."

"Just one more question, do you see yourself following in your father's footsteps and running for public office someday?"

And he looks over at Olivia, gauging her reaction. She smiles. "He sure has the hair and smile for it, doesn't he?" And he adds, "they don't call me Shirley for nothin'. But seriously, I'm not sure yet. I love this country and everything it stands for, and if I ever do decide to run, it'll be a family decision."

"Ok thank you for your time Mr. Grant, and thank you for letting me steal him away from you for a few minutes Ms. Pope."

"Well, what's a few more minutes after a few years, right?" And they all laugh as they shake hands and exchange good wishes and goodbyes.

They all pile into the large SVU headed back to the Grant house. They force Will and John into the way back with Fitz, Olivia, and Em sitting across the middle. And the entire ride Will and John make Shirley Temple jokes and playfully touch his hair. And much to their surprise, Em finally calls them out on it.

"You guys do realize that you have the same hair. And you're practically identical right?"

And the older people in the car laugh and agree with her point. But the boys don't stop, they've missed their brother and this is how thing always were. They joke, and make fun, and bicker. But the love and bond is evident at every moment.

They finally make it back to the house and Fitz transfers his things over to Olivia's car. Mrs. Grant invites them all for dinner but Fitz just wants to go home. To lay in his bed. To hold Olivia. To be alone with her, to make up for some of the lost time. So they decline the dinner invitation and drop Em off on their way home. They run in and quickly say hi to her parents before continuing their journey home.

She's searching through her purse for her keys but she can't find them. And he takes her distraction as his cue. He grabs her purse and lets it fall to the floor with a gentle thud. And she's looking at him like he's crazy but before she can say anything he has her pressed up against the door. And his lips fall on hers. And she's wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in, running her fingers through her hair. Their kisses are frantic and hurried and wet. They're deep and passionate, much like themselves. He lifts her shirt and feels her burning flesh. But before he can expose anymore skin, she's pulling away breathlessly. "Keys," she mutters against his lips. And he smiles as he bends down to get her discarded purse.

He finally locates the keys and they barely make it inside before his lips crash back down to hers. And he's picking her up and carrying her to their bedroom. And she laughing. Finally feeling whole again. And he throws her down and holds himself above her. She looks him in the eye and holds the gaze for a few seconds.

"What where you scheming at the airport?" And he looks at her confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Why'd you make John, Em, Will, and your parents leave me?"

"Because I wanted you all to myself for a few minutes. And I wanted to hold you and kiss you without comments and sound effects from the peanut gallery. Because you're the first person I wanted to see. And you're the first person I want to see everyday, and the last I want to see every night."

"Oh really?" And she bites her bottom lip, the way she knows he likes.

"Yes really. Now any more questions or are you done with your cross examination?"

"Just one actually, will you just kiss me already?" And he gladly obliges.


	10. You Are My Home

"Fitzgerald, I really think you ought to consider my proposal."

"Dad we're done talking about this. I've only been home for two months, I just got hired at Georgetown, we just bought a house, and I'm getting married in the morning. Running for anything isn't in the cards for us right now."

"I still think you should talk to Olivia about it."

"When I'm ready to, we'll talk. But right now all I want to do is teach my classes and spend time with Liv."

"Ok ok I understand, as long as you keep it in the back of your mind."

"Trust me dad, it's there. It's been there since I started kindergarten."

"You were a natural. You dropped our hands and walked right up to Ms. Smith, shook her hand, and introduced yourself."

Mrs. Grant walked into her living room, joining her husband and eldest son. "It truly was the cutest thing, minus the part where you walked away and never looked back."

"I'm here now aren't I?" He flashed his mother a charming smile. She raised her eyebrow and gave him a questioning look. He laughed and took a sip of his scotch.

"You're not fooling anyone Fitzgerald. You're only here because Olivia kicked you out of the house for the night and you already got rid of the apartment."

"Guilty as charged." He paused for a second and continued. "So you guys got any good advice for me? You know, like what stupid things did dad do that really pissed you off that I can avoid?"

"Son, I think you're trying to ask how to better understand the great enigma that is the female psyche. And I hate to break it to you, but there is no understanding it because irrationality cannot really be grasped. It's like trying to understand why two plus two equals four. It just does. Don't question it."

Fitz watched as his mother walked over to her husband and playfully whacked his arm. "Well for starters, you can avoid saying anything of the sort in front of your wife."

Fitz's brothers walked into the living room dressed to go out.

"And where do you two think you're going?" Mrs. Grant questioned as if her children were still curfewd teenagers.

"Out. Grab your coat Fitz. Let's go."

He looked between his brothers and his parents. When he didn't move fast enough for John's liking, he grabbed the coat for Fitz and threw it at him. "Move your ass," Will added.

"Hey hey watch the mouth in front of your mother." Will gave his mom an apologetic smile before the three moved toward the door.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see. Just sit back and relax." Fitz climbed into the back of his brother's car and pulled out his phone to text Olivia. Half way though the message John turned around and stuck his hand out. "Hand it over. No fraternizing with the enemy tonight. You have plenty of time for that in the next fifty years." Fitz sent the half composed message, turned off his phone and reluctantly handed it to his brother.

When they pulled into the bar across town, Fitz was confused. "What are we doing? John's not old enough to go in there."

"Tonight he is." And both of the boys got out of the car leaving Fitz behind. He caught up to them as they made it to the door. They casually walked inside and Fitz immediately knew it wasn't just another night at Cantina. He saw all of his friends, some from high school, others college or law school, and even a few of his Navy buddies.

With a drink in hand, Fitz quickly forgot that he emphatically requested no bachelor party. He caught up with old friends, revisited old memories, and laughed about past experiences. Although he was enjoying the night with his friends and brothers, his mind kept wondering to tomorrow. He kept picturing Olivia walk down the aisle, radiant in white. He thought about his vows and wondered what she had come up with. He longed to hear those five coveted words and take her in his arms and kiss her forever. He wanted to dance with her and shove cake in her face and spend the rest of his life showing her just how much she meant to him.

* * *

Olivia sat on the couch in their new home wrestling with her conflicting emotions. Her bridesmaids had long since retired to their guest rooms, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She sipped her wine slowly, staring at the dying flames in the fire place.

She thought back to the first time she had laid eyes on Fitz. And how his dumbfounded expression had taken her breath away as she tore him apart in front of their class. She thought about the day he had finally worked up the courage to ask her name, though she had a feeling he had asked around about her. She thought about their accidental first date and then their real one. About their first kiss and the way he just blurted out her three favorite words. She spent the rest of the night replaying their last six years together and dreaming about the next sixty.

* * *

"Fitzgerald, my boy, you look very handsome today."

He blushed. "Thank you Mrs. Pope, but I'm sure Livvie will steal the show in a few minutes."

She padded him on the back, "if not the whole show, definitely the rest of your heart." He wanted to follow her back to the room where Olivia and her bridesmaids had gotten dressed. It had been almost a full twenty four hours since he'd seen her. He wanted to see her, to look into her eyes and have her calm his nerves. But instead he made his way to the front of the church and waited for the ceremony to begin.

Music started and one by one each woman made their way down the aisle. His eyes were fixed on the back doors, waiting for her. He loved Olivia in white, and he just knew this would be his new favorite outfit. The music picked up and everyone in the small chapel stood. She stood at entrance to the chapel, on her father's arm, in a simple, elegant dress that fit her body perfectly. His breath hitched and he was frozen, never breaking eye contact. She gracefully made her way toward him and he was lost. Lost in her beauty, lost in his love.

He was so mesmerized and captivated by her, by this moment, by the overwhelming emotions swirling through him. He was finally broken out of the spell by her gentle squeeze on his hand and a small laugh by the crowd.

"Huh?"

The minister repeated himself. "Olivia and Fitz have chosen to write their own vowels."

"Oh, right." He quickly recovered and he smiled at her, looking her directly in the eye.

"Olivia Carolyn Pope, my Livvie, I have loved you since the day I met you. Since the first time I heard your voice, looked into your eyes, and sat back while you publicly eviscerated me. I love you for you kindness and compassion, for your warmth and strength, for your loyalty and laughter, for your popcorn addiction and obsession with politics. I love you for your intellect and stubbornness, for your sarcasm and playfulness, for your competitive spirit and apolitical mind. I love you for your beauty; but not your physical beauty, I love your inner beauty: your grace, and poise, and elegance. These past six years with you, they've been the best years of my life. Everyday I fall deeper and deeper in love with you. You've captivated my heart and soul. I will not only tell you, but I'll show you just how much I love you until my dying breath. I love you Livvie, more today than yesterday, and more tomorrow than today."

The minister turned and looked at her, signaling that it was her turn. She took a deep breath, fighting her tears, and took the folded up paper Em was handing her.

"Fitzgerald, Fitz, I wrote you this letter the night you left for the Navy. I knew we'd get here someday, and now that we're here, I'd like to read it to you." She unfolded the paper and looked down at the tear stained words. "My dearest Fitz, you've only been gone for a total of seven hours, but to me if feels like an eternity. I took the long way home and drove by the little park down by the water. I keep thinking about the night we ended up there, watching the stars. How we raced down to the swings and sat there together for hours, looking at the sky. How you just blurted out your love for me for the first time. And how I couldn't say anything, much less what I was actually feeling. I should have told you how much I loved you. How you'd changed my life and stole my heart. How I couldn't breathe without you. How you made me feel confident and strong and beautiful. And today, I should have told you the same things. But I didn't. So instead, I'm telling you now, in this letter. I love you Fitz, more than words can describe. You turned my life upside down and stole my heart and my soul. I cannot breathe without you, you breathe life into me everyday. You make me feel confident, and strong, and beautiful. I love you Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III, and you better fulfill every single promise we talked about last night. I want a wedding, and kids, and everything. I want a lifetime, a lifetime with you. Please stay safe and come home to me so we get a lifetime. I love you. Love, Livvie."

She folded up the paper and handed it back to her sister. "Fitz, I asked you to come home to me, and today, I'm promising to always come to you, because you are my home."

The minister began talking again, but they weren't listening, not really. They slid rings on each other's fingers and he dipped her back and kissed her. They heard clapping, but none of it registered.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III."

He lifted their connected hands in the air and both smiled as they made their way back down the aisle. She leaned up and whispered in his hear. "I love you Fitz."

"I love you too Mrs. Grant. Now and forever."


	11. Best of the Worst

She slowly opens her eyes as the light comes through the large bedroom windows. She turns and looks at her body, wrapped up in his. The summer breeze and his body heat proved too hot throughout the night, and the sheets are kicked completely off the bed. She lays there and runs her fingers through his hair. She's happy, truly happy for the first time. She feels him stir and watches as he opens his eyes.

He smiles. "Hi."

"Mmmm hi." And she leans in to kiss him. It's deep and slow, not rushed because now, they have time. They have a lifetime. "Happy birthday old man." And she kisses him through her laugh. He rolls over and pins her underneath him, a smile still on his face.

"Thirty is not old."

She runs her fingers through his hair. "Thirty is really really old. I think I just saw a gray hair." She laughs as his face falls and he reaches for her hand. He laces their fingers and brings their hands above her head. He kisses her again and adds, "sorry not all of us can be like you Livvie. Miss I skipped a grade and finished undergrad in three years, and never age."

"Well maybe you should try harder." And they both laugh before he kisses her again. They get lost in the moment, and minutes turn to hours.

"Do you want me to get you breakfast?"

"No I never want you to leave this bed. I never want to leave this bed."

She sits up and kisses him. "Let me at least get you your first present." She throws on his navy shirt that's more hers now than his and walks across the room. He scoots up and props himself against the pillows, watching as she fishes through a drawer. She pulls out a small, wrapped box and walks back over to the bed, sitting so she's facing him, so she can watch every emotion play on his face as he opens the box.

He rips the wrapping paper off like a child on Christmas morning and lifts the lid. He takes out the paper and looks up at her, completely hopeful, surprised, and elated.

"Liv is this...are you...we, are we?"

She smiles and he knows. "We're gonna have a baby."

And he looks back to the sonogram, a heart drawn around the discoloration in the center, the words "happy birthday Daddy" written on the bottom. Nothing can wipe the smile off of his face. "Well I'm going to take your word for it because I can't make out anything on this."

"It's only six weeks. But we should be able to see more at my next appointment." He sits completely upright and pulls her into his lap, engulfing her in his arms, resting his palms on her stomach.

"Thank you for making this the best birthday ever." She leans up and kisses him before nuzzling her head in the crook of his neck.

* * *

"Hello Mrs. Grant, Mr. Grant. How are you feeling today?"

"I feel great. Tired but great. My morning sickness has resided and I think I've been feeling little kicking flutters." She smiled and looked over at her husband.

"All of that is normal for about twelve weeks. Today we're going to do a simple blood test and ultrasound so you can see your baby."

She drew some blood and then instructed Olivia to lie back on the table. She got everything set up and put the wand to her stomach. A picture appeared on the screen and Fitz kissed her forehead before focusing back on their baby.

She moved the wand up and down, pointing out different features of the child. "It's early, but would you like to know the sex?" They looked at each other, smiled, and nodded a confirmation.

"I'm pretty confident that your little one is going to be a boy."

Fitz leaned down and kissed her. They looked back at the screen, and then noticed the withdrawn expression on the tech's face.

"What's wrong?"

"It could be nothing, but I'd like Dr. Kerer to take a look. I'll be right back." She quickly exited the room.

He looked from the frozen image on the monitor to the terrified expression on Olivia's face. "Livvie, stop. She said it's probably nothing. He's going to be fine." He cupped her face in his hand and laid a soft kiss on her forehead. "We're not going to worry until we need to, ok? And if we need to, we're going to let me worry for the both of us."

She looked up at him and cracked a weak smile. "Ok."

The door opened and the doctor walked through with the tech behind him. He smiled at them and picked up the wand. "I'm just going to take a quick look, make sure everything's ok." He studied the monitor as he slowly moved the wand down. Olivia held her breath and gripped Fitz's hand as they waited for a sign of anything on his face. He put everything away and looked at them apologetically.

"Ok. Mr. and Mrs. Grant, I think we should go talk in my office."

* * *

**Have no fear. I have a long bus ride home tomorrow. I won't leave you hangin for too long. **


	12. I'm Having This Baby

He followed her inside the house closing the door behind him. "I don't know how you can be so utterly selfish." She stopped dead in her tracks and turned around to look at him.

"Selfish? I'm being selfish? Are you kidding me? Not wanting to kill our unborn child is selfish? Possibly sacrificing myself for our unborn child, our baby, our son, is selfish? Is that not the very definition of motherhood? Of being a parent? You put your child's life before your own. And you think that's being selfish? Because from where I'm standing, it seems as far from selfish as you can get. From where I'm standing, you're the selfish one. You're the one who's only thinking about himself. You think that you can't live without me. That you can't lose me. That you wouldn't be able to go on. Well guess what, I felt like that for two years of my life. Every second of everyday. I was alone and afraid." She paused and took a breath as the tears in her eyes finally let loose. Her tone shifted from one of anger to one of sadness.

"Fitz. We just heard his heartbeat and saw him again. And I feel him kick all day long. And you tell him stories and talk to him all night to calm him down. And he has a name. He's our baby. He's our son. I can't end his life because of a statistic. Because of a chance that maybe something will go wrong. I can't do it. And I don't understand how you can even suggest it. I won't do it. So don't ever ask me to again." She slowly walked out of the kitchen. He leaned back against the counter, ran his hands through his hair and let out a burst of air as tears flowed from his eyes.

He found her upstairs in the room that they decided would become the nursery. He stood on the doorway, watching as she slowly rocked back and forth, her hands resting on her ever-growing baby bump. "Liv," he whispered.

She looked up at him, tears still in her eyes. "Fitz don't." He walked over to her, kneeling beside the chair.

"Liv it's been four weeks. And nothing's changed." When she didn't respond, he continued. "Your placenta's still completely blocking. It hasn't moved and he doesn't think it will."

"And what are you trying to say? That it's now or never? That it's time to quit. That you actually want to have an abortion?" He jerked his head and looked at her. Neither had dared speak the word since Dr. Kere had mentioned it four weeks prior in his office.

"I'm saying that you could bleed out. At any moment. That you could die. That he could die. You both could die."

"Or we both could live."

"Liv-"

"What? You think I didn't hear everything he said? You think I don't understand the risks? You think that I don't realize that I could die? I heard him. I understand them. I realize it." She reached out for his hand and placed it on her stomach, right above where the baby was kicking. He slowly lowered his head and began to cry. She reached out and cradled his head against her chest as he sobbed.

"Fitz, you're allowed to love this baby. Loving him doesn't mean that you don't love me. He isn't taking me away from you. It's not his fault."

"I'm scared. I can't lose you Livvie. It's my job to protect you, both of you. And I can't protect either of you."

"It's going to be ok. We're going to be ok. Both of us, all three of us."

"Olivia you don't know that."

"Yes I do." He looked up at her and she gave him a weak smile. "I feel it in my gut, and my gut is never wrong." He smiled at her before leaning down toward her stomach.

"You better listen to your mother. No funny business mister. Mommy needs to be all right; you need to be all right. I need you both to be all right. We all need you to be all right." He lifted her shirt and kissed her stomach before coming back up to kiss her lips.

"I love you Liv. And I love him too. I've never stopped loving you two. You're my world and I can't lose you guys."

"C'mere." She pulled him up and led him back into their room. He sat on the bed and watched as she pulled out a sketchpad from the closet. She sat on the bed with a pencil and looked at him.

"Describe what you think he'll look like." Fitz started listing off the physical qualities he hoped his son would possess. He sat back and watched her work. When she finished, she handed him the pad and let him flip though it.

She had sketches of her and Fitz on their first date, some of him in uniform, her in a courtroom, some of their wedding, their honeymoon, his thirtieth birthday. Then he got to scenes he didn't recognize. He saw babies asleep in cribs, kids playing outside, their family sitting around the dinner table, them at a soccer game, at a graduation, at a wedding, and finally holding a new baby, both looking considerably aged.

He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her forehead. "I forgot how good of an artist you are." She smiled. "Me too. It's taken four weeks of bed rest to remind me."

"I wonder what else you'll remember in the next twenty." She smiled at him and groaned.

"I don't know, but if it's anything interesting, I'll let you know."

Silence overtook the room. After a few minutes she finally spoke. "I'm having this baby."

"I know." And he smiled. "But you're not doing it alone. We're having this baby."

He looked back down at the last page of sketches and smiled. "You're going to be the best mom."

She smiled at him but he could see the question in her eyes. "You think so?"

He kissed her forehead and place his hand back with hers on her stomach. "No. I know you will, because you already are."

She leaned in and kissed him. "I love you Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III." She looked down and placed her other hand on her stomach. "And I love you too Fitzgerald Thomas Grant IV. Mommy loves you forever and always."


	13. Livvie Please

**Ugh sorry this took forever. College sucks sometimes. **

* * *

He sat on the bed absentmindedly watching her sleep. He had been hovering for weeks. Making excuses to not leave the house. To sit by her side and hold a vigil.

"You're doing it again." She slowly opened her eyes and let out a yawn. "What time is it?"

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, soft and warm. "Good morning to you too. It's almost eight thirty."

She raised her eyebrow, gave him a questioning look, and slowly rolled onto her side. "It's eight thirty on Wednesday."

"And?"

"Isn't there somewhere you should be at eight thirty on Wednesdays, Fitz?"

"Livvie-"

She reached out and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. "Fitz you can't keep canceling your classes to sit here and watch me lay in bed all day. You're running out of feasible excuses."

He reached down and brushed the hair from her face. He smiled. "The kids don't mind."

She returned the smile. "Fitz, I love you, but you need to go to work. You can't do this for another eight weeks."

"I don't cancel class everyday."

She raised her eyebrow again, waiting for him to stop giving her half truths.

"Ok, ok fine. But you better keep that phone glued to your hand and call me if anything happens. And I mean anything. Like if he kicks harder than usual, or you're tired, or you feel something weird I want a call. Promise me."

"A text. And only if something's really not right. Or if I miss you."

He leaned down and kissed her lips before getting up to change. She watched as he put on his shirt and held two ties for her to choose from.

"The blue one. It brings out your eyes." He smiled and walked over to her.

"Blue it is." She sat up on her knees and started tying the tie for him. He placed his hands on her stomach.

"Hey buddy, you're gonna be good today right?" He felt a few fluttery kicks and took that as the baby's consent.

"That's my boy. I love you." He focused his attention back on her and kissed her lips. "And I love you. I made you breakfast and lunch, it's all in the refrigerator."

"Mmmm you're too good to us." She stole one more kiss before making her way to the bathroom.

* * *

She goes downstairs and eats. She calls her mom and chats about the baby and the latest episode of their favorite show. She sends Cyrus an email asking for a case to look into, or a brief to read, or anything that will keep her mind busy. She turns on the tv, but suddenly she has a headache. And she's tried, she's easily worn out these days. She goes upstairs and wraps herself in the blankets on the bed.

She's thinking about Fitz, and about their son. About how much she loves them, how much she already loves their baby boy. She thinks about Fitz raising the baby alone. And how much she'd miss out on. No late night feedings, no stuffy noses and scraped knees. No first days of school and soccer games. No holidays and family vacations. No graduations or weddings or grandchildren. And she promises herself that will never happen. She'll be strong. She'll fight. She won't miss a minute. She won't die.

But then she feels a sharp pain in her stomach. And suddenly she can't keep her eyes open any longer. She doesn't want to sleep, but she has no choice. She tries to reach for her phone, she needs to call, to call someone. He should be home soon but she can't wait for that. She needs to call him. But she can't reach the phone. And then she's drifting off.

He walks into the house but it doesn't feel right. It's eerie, empty, discomforting. It's dark and silent. He calls out for her but receives no response. He calls her name again as he walks up the stairs, but silence still greets him.

He walks into their bedroom and finds her lying on the bed in a cocoon of blankets. She looks so peaceful, angelic even. He kneels next to the bed and kisses her forehead. But it feels different. She's clammy and cold. He calls her name, but she doesn't stir. He shakes her arm, nothing. He's panicking. He rips the blankets from around her and sees the red puddle surrounding her. He lifts her and carries her to the car, absentmindedly chanting "Livvie please, please Liv" as he drives down the road in tears.


	14. Come Home

He's sitting in the waiting room surrounded by their families. His head is down, eyes bloodshot, running through every possible scenario in his mind. He's driving himself crazy. An hour of worrying, of sitting idly, feeling helpless. He can't do anything. And he feels guilty. He shouldn't have gone to work. He shouldn't have let her continue the pregnancy. He should have known better. They knew the risks. They knew this could happen. But then he thinks about their son. And as much as he can't imagine the pain of losing her, he can't fathom life without the little boy.

"Mr. Grant?" A nurse in white scrubs is standing in front of him. He looks up at her. "Dr. Kerre would like to speak with you." He stands and follows her down the hall. He's met with apologetic eyes and feels as if he's about to crumble.

"Mr. Grant, we did everything we could-"

He can't breathe. "No." And he's about to break down, to completely lose it when the doctor puts his hand on his shoulder to reassure him.

"We did everything we could to stop the bleeding, but it was too sever. Your son was delivered and is on oxygen up in the NICU. He's five pounds twelve ounces. We may have misestimated the time of conception, he seems about four weeks older than originally estimated. He's strong and stable. You can go up and see him if you'd like."

He lets out a breath. "And Liv?" His voice is shaky and full of fear.

"She was down for a long time." He pauses for a minute, looking for the right words. "Right now she's stable and sedated, but we won't know what kind of deficits we're looking at until she wakes up, if she wakes up."

His heart sinks."If?"

"There are no guarantees here, Mr. Grant. But I've seen people come back from worse."

He lets out another breath. "I want to see them. I need to see them."

"Madeline will take you up to the NICU, and Olivia's room is up on the third floor."

He silently follows the nurse up to the NICU. They quietly walk inside and she leads him over to a corner in the back. He looks down and he knows this baby is his. He's theirs. He's them.

He puts his hand through the open widow and lets the infant grasp his finger. Tears fill his eyes at the contact. He chocks out, "Hi buddy, it's daddy."

"Would you like to hold him?" He nods his head not bothering to look away from the infant. The nurse carefully lifts him and places him in his arms. She turns to leave as he sits in a chair nearby.

He stares down at the baby who looks painfully similar to his mother. He's enamored by the similarities. He's everything that he imagined. He's more than he imagined. He can't imagine his life without this baby, and suddenly he hates himself for even considering termination. This is what she wanted. He is what she wanted. He's what they've always wanted. And he's both overjoyed and devastated. He would give anything to switch places with her. To let her sit here and bond with their son. To let her live and him fight for life.

The baby begins to whimper and his heart breaks. "Shhh, it's ok buddy." And he strokes his cheek but it doesn't soothe the infant. "I know, I know, you want mommy. We both do." He cradles the baby close to his chest, but his heartbeat isn't soothing, it's unfamiliar. "It's gonna be ok. Whatever happens, we're gonna be ok." And he wants to believe that, he truly does.

He looks up and sees their family outside the window. He gives them a weak smile and readjusts the infant in his arms to give them a better view. He stands and a nurse comes over. "I'll he back later, buddy. I love you." And he kisses the baby's head before he hands him to the nurse.

He walks out and is met by their family. They look at him sympathetically but expectantly. "He's perfect." And they smile. "He's beautiful, Fitz." They all agree but he's not paying attention, he's unfocused. He's only focused on one person at the moment. "I'm going to go see Livvie."

He walks to the room but is frozen at the doorway. She's connected to so many machines, so many wires. She's asleep, but he can see the pain etched into her face. He finally makes his way over to her and sits. He takes her hand, lowers his head, and cries.

He wipes his tears and nuzzles his head onto her shoulder. Her scent is familiar and her skin is warm again. He strokes her hair and takes her hand. "In that letter you read at our wedding, you asked for me to come home. You told me to come home to you and give you a lifetime. I did Livvie, and now it's your turn. You need to come back to me Liv, I need you, our son needs you. Come back to us. Give us a lifetime. Please." He feels that familiar burning sensation in his throat and steadies his breathing to control his tears.

"He's perfect Liv. He's beautiful and strong, just like you. They say he can go home in a few days once he can eat on his own. But he cries a lot. And I know he's looking for you. He wants you Livvie. He doesn't want me, or your mom, or my parents. He doesn't want Em. He doesn't want a nurse. He wants you. He only wants his mom. He needs you, Liv; I need you. I can't do this alone. I can't do it without you. I never really understood how you felt when I was away. I do now. I'm afraid, I feel frozen. I can't breathe without you Livvie. Please. Come back to us."

He looks up at her with pleading eyes, tears on his face. He kisses her forehead and cheek. And he lays his head on the pillow next to hers, capturing the familiarness, drifting off to sleep.


	15. Postremo Pacem

He had gone home once. He had left the hospital once in three days. The nurses stopped fighting him after the first day. They didn't remind him of visiting hours, or lecture him about getting some sleep. They let him be. They kept saying that nothing had changed, that she could wake up at any moment. Or she could never wake up. They had done everything they could and the rest was up to her. They were on her timetable.

He sat next to her in the chair he had become very well acquainted with. He brushed the hair from her face and stroked her cheek. "Ok Liv, I need you to wake up. They're letting me take him home today. I don't know what to do with a baby. I can't do this on my own. We need you. So you need to wake up. You need to tell me what to do. I need you to tell me everything's going to be ok. You promised me, Livvie. You promised us a lifetime." He took a breath and kissed her forehead. "I love you sweet baby, I'll come back before we leave."

He kissed her again before he walked out. He casually walked into the nursery and went over to his son. "Wow look at you bud, you've been upgraded from that tiny little isolate now haven't you?" He picked up the baby and met his gaze. Gray cerulean eyes meeting a smaller pair of gray ceruleans. "We're going to get you all home and settled and it'll be a guys night for awhile. How's that sound? Good? Ok, but just until your momma gets better."

A nurse walked in with the last of the discharge papers. "Mr. Grant, would you like to officially put his name on the birth certificate now? We usually like to have them filed before release."

"No. I want to wait for my wife. It should be something we do together."

"I understand. Just let me finish up here and you'll be all set to go."

He nervously walked down the hallway with a sleeping infant in his arms. The papers were all signed and he had officially been discharged. He was now responsible for another life. For another human being. For a helpless baby. And he was terrified. He was terrified that he would do irreversible damage. That he would hurt his son. That he would fail. But most of all, he was terrified that she wouldn't wake up. That he would lose her forever. That was his biggest fear, and it was becoming more and more real by the hour.

* * *

He walks up to her room and carefully adjusts the baby in his arms to open the door. They move closer to her and he swears that she's in a different position, that she's somehow moved. But she's still asleep so he assumes it was the doctor or a nurse who moved her. He puts the diaper bag full of stuff the nursery staff gave him on the floor and sits down.

The baby begins to wake, and soon his small whimpers turn to loud cries. Fitz tries to quiet him but nothing seems to work. He paces in front of the window gently rocking the infant. He rubs his back and whispers soothing words in his ear. He holds him close and points out objects outside the window as if he could understand. Nothing works. And he's so distracted by the crying that he doesn't notice. He doesn't notice anything until he hears it.

"Fitz." It's nothing above a whisper but he heard it. He whips around and looks at her. Her eyes are squinted and she has a slight grin on her face. His breath hitches and a wide smile spreads over him. He forgets about the crying, about the incessant deafening wails. He forgets about everything, everything except her, and her big brown eyes that hold his soul.

He makes it over to the bed in two strides. He takes a seat on the edge. "Hi."

She smiles, tears welling in her eyes. "Is that? Is he..?" And she can't finish her sentence, she's too overcome with emotion. She holds her arms out and he gladly hands over their child. She looks down at him and she's frozen. She's never felt like this before. So completely captivated. And in love, so completely in love. She thinks about how crazy it all is, that she can love someone so little so much. That her universe shifted the instant she saw him.

His cries begin to quiet and he stares back up at her. She can't tear her eyes from him. He's her. And he's him. And he's everything she dreamed of, and more. And he's perfect. "He's perfect."

He wraps his arm around her and kisses her temple. "I know." And they sit there in silence for awhile. They're bewitched. He lets out a small yawn and both swear it's the cutest thing they've ever seen. And it melts their hearts.

"He needs a name."

"Fitz, he has a name. He's always had a name."

"Are you sure you don't want to name him after your father?"

"Yes. I want to name him after his father."

And he smiles. He doesn't know what he did to get so lucky. To have this perfect life. This perfect woman. This perfect family. But he promises himself he won't ever take any of it for granted. Not for a second.

He leans down and kisses her lips gently, sweetly. "I love you so much sweet baby. Thank you for coming back to me." And he kisses her again.

She tries to sit up more but winces in pain. "I should get your doctor."

"No wait. I want more time with him."

"You have time Livvie. You have all the time. We have a lifetime." He kisses her cheek and she nods in agreement. He gets up to go get the doctor, but turns before he reaches the door. The baby's head is resting right above her heart, snuggled up tight on her chest. And her head is gently leaning on his. Both have their eyes closed and look so peaceful, so completely content.

He smiles to himself as he walks down the hall. He's finally at peace now too.

* * *

**People, people, people. Under no circumstances will they ever die. I'm sad that you doubt me. Ok leave me reviews or something por favor. Oh and I'm totally on a Latin kick so Vitam regit fortuna non sapientia and happy scandal Thursday! **


	16. Late Nights

**This is short and shitty and I'm sorry. But it's midterm week so bear with me. **

* * *

The bright flash of lightning outside their window startles him awake. He lazily reaches his arm to pull her closer to him, to snuggle up closer to her, to feel her warmth. He was happy to finally have her home with them, happy to put the last three weeks of their lives behind them and start fresh. Happy to finally be a completed family, home and healthy.

But his arm falls to the cold sheet and he opens his eyes. She's not there, and hasn't been for awhile. He quickly sits up and sees a light from down the hall. He knows where she is, it's where she always is when she can't sleep. He gets out of bed and throws on a shirt and walks down the hall, following the splash of light, rubbing his eyes.

He walks to the nursery and turns the dim light off, leaving himself in the darkness. He continues down the hall and descends the stairs. Another flash of lightning illuminates the room and he sees her standing over by the wall of glass sliding doors. She's looking outside, watching, admiring the illuminated DC skyline. She's swaying back and forth, humming a soft tune.

She hears the bottom stair creek and slowly turns around, careful not to jostle the baby in her arms. It's dark but he can see her smile.

He takes a seat on the couch and puts his arm on the back, waiting for her to join him. She slowly sits and curls into his side, the baby curled into hers. He kisses her temple and they both look down at their son.

"Tonight was my night." He's pouting. Upset over the fact that he didn't have to get up with the baby. Upset that he got the sleep, upset that she isn't.

"You had a long day. And you're stressed. And next week isn't going to be any easier for you. I can get him, you need to sleep."

He turns his head and looks into her eyes. He's still amazed that she can read him so well, that she knows him almost better than he knows himself. "But Liv-"

She nuzzles her head back in between his shoulder and neck. "You know, I was thinking, do you remember Professor Miller's monthly barbecues?"

He smiles. "Hmm how could I forget? That's where I finally got you to have a civil conversation with me."

She smiles too. "Well I think you should start the tradition again. We could do it here, pot luck, get to know your classmates, talk to your professor in a casual setting, maybe even find a husband. And I'll ask a few partners from the firm to come by, they can finally meet Gerry and your students can mingle, ask questions, network."

He laughs and kisses her. "That sounds like a great idea, but you have enough to worry about right now. We need you to focus on getting back to one hundred percent, and we have a new baby. Do you really want all those people here?"

She nods her head. "Yes. I'm going crazy here all day. I need some action, something different, something to occupy my mind, something to look forward to."

He smirks. "Are you asking for sex now?"

She jabs her elbow into his side. "Fitz!" They both laugh and all the commotion wakes the baby. He begins to fuss but Olivia quickly lulls him back to sleep as Fitz watches in awe.

He kisses her forehead. "You're such a good mom, we're so lucky to have you." She smiles and he takes the baby from her arms. "And ok, we'll have the barbecue; but you're not doing any extra work for it. And I've got him, go back to sleep."

"I'd rather stay here. I like listening to the rain and watching the lightening light up the sky. Plus, my two favorite boys are here, why would I want to be anywhere else?" She kisses Gerry's forehead and snuggles back into Fitz's side, her head on his chest, slowly drifting back to sleep.

He stays up for awhile listening to the rain, watching them sleep in his arms. Eventually, he gently disentangles himself from her and carries Gerry back up to the nursery. He returns for her, slowly scooping her up and walking to their bedroom. She stirs as he lays her down but doesn't wake. He pulls his body close to her; lazily reaching his arm to pull her closer to him, to snuggle up closer to her, to feel her warmth. He drifts off to sleep, happy to have her home and in his arms.


	17. Working Man

**This is my version of studying for midterms. Love me some philosophy. **

* * *

He's sitting at his desk working on next week's lecture. Trying to get ahead so he can enjoy the weekend, so he can focus his attention on her and their son. Trying to find the balance between husband, father, and professor. He's furiously typing and looking back and forth between the computer and a book. He checks his watch, twenty minutes before his last class. He starts typing again but is drawn out of his groove by a soft knock on the door.

He doesn't bother to look up and calls for whoever it is to come in. The door opens but he continues typing. When he hears it close but doesn't hear the person speak, he finally looks up.

She's standing in the middle of the small office behind a stroller, a wide smile on her face. He gets up and walks over to her, kissing her lips before he reaches down and lifts Gerry out of the stroller. The baby coos and he swears he sees a little smile.

He kisses her again. "And what do I owe this unexpected but very welcome surprise?" He smiles and leans back against his desk, bouncing Gerry on his lap. He lets out a little screech and bounces faster.

She walks over and sits in the chair in front of him. "Someone was extra cranky today and needed to get out of the house." She brushes the back of her hand over the baby's cheek and he reaches for her finger, grasping tightly. "And by someone, I mean me."

He flashes her his signature smile. "Well I'm glad this is where you decided to escape to." He turns his attention back to the baby and she watches with a smile on her face. She never doubted that he would be an incredible father, but seeing him with Gerry over the past couple months solidified the notion.

He checks his watch. "Hey Liv we're doing moral reasoning today, sit in on my last class."

She looks up at him and smiles. "Oh I'd love to, but what about him?" And she grabs Gerry's foot, wiggling it back and forth.

"I could use a side kick, right bud?" The baby smiles and confirms his agreement with a shriek. He kisses Gerry's cheek and hold his face next to his own.

She smiles. "Well, how can I say no and break up that precious father son dynamic duo?" They both stand and she reaches out to take the baby but he shakes his head.

"You just relax, I'm going to use him to my advantage."

They file into the small lecture hall and she takes a seat in the back while he struts to the front, baby in tow. He takes a seat on the desk facing the room.

"Ok guys, I have a special treat for you today. As some of you already know, this is my son Gerry; he's four months old, likes football, loves naps and the Hoyas, and particularly enjoys long stroller rides on the beach." The class laughs and he kisses the baby's curls.

"Now if we were in a psych class we'd be discussing Gerry's moral reasoning and how it develops throughout his adolescence. But since this is law school and I assume you've all made it through Koleberg's last stage, we're going to discuss some hypothetical moral scenarios." He adjusted the baby in his lap. "Is this too distracting? Because I can easily pass him off." He smiles and the students nod their heads no.

"First order of business: your papers are graded and grades are posted online. Second: I have a good trivia question of the day for you all. If anyone can answer this, you don't have to take the next quiz. John Jay, John Marshall, Roger Taney, and Samuel Chase were all chief justices. What other distinction did they share?"

He watches them squirm for a bit. "Anyone? No one? Wow. Better luck next week."

"Aren't you going to tell us the answer?" A guy in the back calls out.

"What's the fun in that? Look it up later, or don't. It doesn't really matter. I just like stupid facts." He makes eye contact with Olivia and she smiles in agreement.

"Ok notebooks and laptops away. We're just going to have a short discussion today. Imagine you're out by train tracks and a trolley with broken brakes is speeding down the way. If the trolley continues on its path, it'll kill the five workers working on the tracks. But if you flip a lever, the trolley will change corse and only kill one worker on the side set of tracks. Who would flip the lever?" He looks out and sees the majority of people with their hands raised.

"Ok fair enough. Now new scenario. You're out by the same tracks and the same trolley is coming down the way. If it stays on its path, the five workers will die. But you look next to you and notice a fat man leaning over a railing. You could push him over the railing in front of the trolley and he will affectively stop it from killing the five workers. Who would push the fat man?"

Gerry pulls on his tie and coos. "Well Gerry knows his answer, but don't let that sway you. Who pushes the fat man to his death?" Less people raise their hands.

"Why is there such a discrepancy between people who would flip the lever and people who would push the man? It's the same outcome right? Kill one to save five? Someone justify your murderous streak to me. Kelly, you raised your hand for flipping the lever but not pushing the man. Why? What do you think?"

The girl from the third row looks up. "Well flipping the lever seems like an indirect action whereas pushing the man is direct."

"But you're still killing the person, right?" He pries his tie from the baby's grasp and the room laughs.

"Ok new scenario. You're a doctor in an emergency room and six people injured in a horrific trolley accident come in." The room laughs. "Five have minor injuries; one has critical injuries. In the time it'll take to save the one critically injured man, the other five will die. But if you save the five, the critically injured man will die. Who saves the five?" The majority of the room raises their hands. "Who saves the one?" A few raise their hands.

"For the same reason I assume? One life versus five? Now consider you're a transplant surgeon. I swear I have a point here, just bear with me once more." The room laughs. "Five people need new organs or they will die. One needs a heart, one a kidney, on a liver, one lungs, and the final, uh, what's another life sustaining organ?"

Someone in the room calls out the pancreas. He smiles.

"Thank you. And the finale needs a pancreas. You have no organ donors. And you're about to watch them all die. Then is occurs to you, a healthy man came in for a checkup earlier and fell asleep in the exam room. You could use his healthy organs to save the other five sick patients. Who would?" No one raises their hand.

"It's the same premise though, isn't it? Sacrifice one to save the five?" A hand in the back goes up.

"Why not just wait for the first of the five to die and use his other healthy organs to save the other four sick ones?"

The baby becomes more alert. And he smiles. "Ladies and gentlemen, my wife. Now that a pretty good idea. That's a great idea. Except for the fact that you just completely wrecked my philosophical point."

He stands. "Let's take a step back from the scenarios. Certain moral principles have emerged from these stories and we need to discuss them before we can go any farther in this course." He walks Gerry over to her and goes back to the front of the room. He writes on the large chalkboard, outlining his point with more anecdotes and definitions.

She sits back and watches him in his element. She's never realized how good he is as a professor. How much effort he puts into making his lectures interesting and exciting. And she realizes that he's like that in everything he does. And she loves him just a little bit more for it, if that's even possible.

He dismisses class early and they go home together. The little family unit complete. They have dinner and bathe the baby. He cuddles the baby as she reads a story aloud. And eventually, Gerry drifts off to sleep. She grabs the baby monitor as he leads them down the hall to their bedroom.

He runs a bath and she sinks into the hot water in front of him. She leans back against his chest and relaxes into him.

She speaks slowly. "Fitz, I think I need to go back to work."

He kisses her temple. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. But we need to decide who'll watch Ger."

"We could hire a nanny."

She turns look at him, her head on his shoulder. "I don't want someone else raising our son." She turns away and mumbles, "I don't want him calling someone else mom someday."

"Liv-"

"I want to be with him every second of the day, I do, but I need to go to work. I can't just be a stay at home mom."

"Livvie, you can have both. We'll talk to my mom, I'm sure she'll gladly babysit. Or he can come with me somedays and hang out in daycare while I have class. We'll figure it out."

She nervously moves the top layer of water around with a finger."Am I being selfish?"

"No. We always knew you would go back to work eventually. And you love that baby and he adores you. You've put your career and ultimately your life on hold for almost a whole year, for him, for me, for this family. You deserve to do something for you for once, Liv. And I'll help you with it. I'll always help you baby, with anything."

"I love you Fitz. You're a great teacher. And to answer your question, none of them actually went to law school."

He smiles and kisses her temple and wraps him arms tighter around her middle. "Mmm, I love you."


	18. MIA

"I really need to go." And with that she's putting on her watch and walking out of their bedroom.

He follows her down the hall. "Olivia. Don't walk away. We need to talk about this."

She finishes descending the stairs, pauses and takes a breath. "We can argue this later. I'm late for work."

He rolls his eyes. "Of course you are."

She looks back at him with a cold calculated glare. But then she turns to the baby and she's wide-eyed and smiling. And she's walking over to Gerry who's sitting in his high chair happily pushing Cheerios around the tray, clapping his chubby hands together, oblivious to the frigid atmosphere in the house. She kisses his forehead, grabs her coffee and a banana off of the counter, and walks out the door.

Fitz grabs his own cup of coffee and the morning paper from the counter and sits at the table next to his son. He's trying to read, trying to focus on the article about the increase in robberies and break ins in downtown offices. But he can't. He can't focus on anything other than the fact that she's being incredibly stubborn and that he lost his temper. He yelled. And now, withdrawn from the heat of the moment, he regrets it.

After their fight when they found out about her high risk pregnancy, he promised himself that he would never yell at her like that again. That he would be a better man than that, for him, for her, for their family.

But sometimes, she's so infuriating. And he tries to remind himself that that's one of the things he loves about her, her dedication and passion and stubborn streak. He's lost in his own mind, but suddenly he's back to earth. And he looks over at the baby, "what did you just say bud?"

Gerry has a wide grin plastered on his face. And he shrieks again. "Ma!" And without a second thought, Fitz is pulling out his cell phone and videoing the baby. "Ok Gerry, say it again. C'mon little man, I know you can do it."

Gerry offers him the Cheerio that's gripped between his little fingers and smiles. "Mamamama!"

Fitz continues to video Gerry, carefully examining the Cheerio as if they were something completely new and not his usual morning snack. He talks from behind the camera. "Hey Olivia, I just thought you'd like to see what your son said this morning." It's cold, and void of emotion, robotic even. He may regret his actions, but that doesn't change his mind. He's clearly still mad.

He ends the video and sends it to her. He takes the dishes to the sink and then comes back for the messy baby. He picks him up and walks off in the direction of the stairs. "Alright buddy, let's get you cleaned up for grandma."

He quickly washes Gerry's hands and face and changes his clothes, all while listening to him babble. He's slightly jealous. He spends more time with him, he gets him ready in the morning and picks him up from his mother's in the afternoon, but he's saying ma and not da.

He plops Gerry down in the middle of their bed with a toy and quickly changes into work clothes. He brushes his teeth and fixes his hair and puts on socks and shoes. He scoops up the baby and carries him out to the car.

They pull out of the driveway and Fitz glances into the rear view mirror, watching Gerry flail his arms and legs and chant odd vowel sounds, clearly entertaining himself. He drops Gerry off at his mother's house and goes to work.

He picks up Gerry hours later. He walks into his parent's house and finds a sleeping baby and a sleeping mother. He carefully wakes her and extracts the little boy from her arms. Gerry stirs but quickly falls back to sleep, his face pressed into Fitz's neck, head on his shoulder. He puts a blanket back over his mother and lets himself out of the house.

They get home and Fitz lays the sleeping baby in the playpen in his office. He grades papers and loses track of time until Gerry wakes up and demands his full and undivided attention.

He picks the baby up and walks to the kitchen. He turns his head and looks at the baby, Gerry returning the gaze. "C'mon bud, let's make a special dinner for your momma. I was a little mean to her this morning and-"

And he's cut off by Gerry's light tap to the cheek, as if it was his way of slapping Fitz across the face. And the baby looks at him with a stern gaze, "No." And then he's giggling and shrieking again.

Fitz smiles. "You're a silly one, do you know that? But I love you, so so so so so so much." He gives Gerry loud exaggerated kisses on the cheek, and between shrill shrieks of glee, Gerry yells out "mamama!"

"Can you say dad? Da, da, da." He says it slowly, watching Gerry intently.

He looks back at Fitz quizzically, "mamamama!"

Fitz puts in his his high chair next to the sink and starts cutting up vegetables for a salad. He pulls out a pot roast and potatoes and cooks them. He feeds Gerry and finishes their dinner, leaving it in the oven to stay warm for as long as possible. And they wait for Olivia.

He texts her and gets no response. He calls, no response. Minutes turn to an hour, and then another. And he's officially worried. He calls her parents but they say they haven't seen her. He calls his parents but they haven't seen her. He calls Em, and Will, and then John. He calls the office but the phones have already been flipped over to the messaging system for the night. He calls her and her phone just rings and rings.

Gerry starts to get fussy so Fitz gives him a quick bath and puts him in pajamas. He calls her again and gets the same response. Gerry's fussing turns into all out wails. He wants his mom, can't go to sleep without her, at bedtime he's a momma's boy through and through.

And Fitz doesn't know what to do. Does he call the police? Does he call her friends? Does he go look for her? Maybe she went out for a drink after work; they had a fight and maybe she wanted to blow off steam. But she would have called; she'd have come home, if not to see him, to spend time with Gerry at least.

He's starting to panic and the baby senses the shift in his demeanor. It's an hour past his bedtime, and Fitz can see his exhaustion. He decides he needs to get Gerry to sleep first and then worry about where Olivia is.

He carries the baby up to their bed and gets his Navy t shirt that Olivia always wears to bed, the one that smells gloriously like her. He wraps Gerry in it instead of a blanket and cuddles him close, rocking him slowly, like he's watched her do every night for months.

The cries quickly quiet and he's left in an uneasy silence. He puts Gerry in his crib and runs down to the office. He fishes out a paper with Cyrus's number on it. He calls him; Cyrus says that he left the office minutes ago but all the lights were out.

He's now in complete panic mode. All of his anger as dissipated and now he's just worried and scared and terrified. And all he can think about is that he didn't tell her that he loved her this morning. He was mad and didn't even so much as kiss her goodbye.

He's about to go out and look for her, but then he remembers the sleeping baby upstairs. And then, his phone rings. And he shakily slides his finger across the cold screen to answer the unknown caller.

He puts the phone up to his ear and takes a deep breath.

"Hello?"

* * *

**Ok don't hate me. I won't leave you hangin very long, my insomnia is your good fortune. Have a good Monday! **


	19. Who Are You

**So I could have sworn that I posted this this morning. Sorry. **

* * *

He puts the phone up to his ear and takes a deep breath.

"Hello?"

"Hey I'm leaving the office now."

He lets out a deep breath. All his worry is quickly replaced with confusion and frustration and anger.

"Olivia, where have you been? I've been calling you for hours. And Cyrus said all of your lights were off."

He hears her car door shut and the engine crank on. "My phone was catapulted to its death this morning. And the short catnap I took after court turned into more of a winter hibernation."

He runs is fingers through his hair, trying to think of what to say. Trying to think of an appropriate response to her oblivion. Trying not to say something he'll soon come to regret. He takes a breath. "Ok, well, just be safe driving. I'll see you in a few minutes."

He goes to hang up but her voice stops him. "Hey Fitz," and she sounds almost sad, "I love you."

"I love you too." It's sounds automatic, not full of conviction. And he hangs up the phone.

He goes to the oven and checks on the state of dinner. The food is cold and stiff, the salad wilted and warm. He throws it all in the trash and pulls out a jar of peanut butter from the cupboard. He makes two sandwiches and then a cup of tea for her.

He's sitting at the table when she walks in the door. An awkward silence washes over the room as she moves through the dining room to the refrigerator. He's staring at her, shocked that she's still oblivious to everything around her.

She sits across from him with a bottle of water and notices his expression. "What?" And she takes a bite of the sandwich.

He rolls his eyes. "I just can't believe you right now."

She drops the sandwich back to the plate. "And what is it that you cannot believe Fitzgerald?"

"You're kidding right? You fell off the face of the earth for three hours Olivia. You're three hours late. And you didn't even think to send me a text. To let someone know where you were. I was about to call the police. And then you walk in here like nothing happened and everything's fine."

"I told you I fell asleep. And you knew where I was. It's where I always am."

"And there's my other point. You're never home; you're always working. And you think it'll get better when you quit and start up your own firm? Liv, it won't."

"So what are you saying? You want me to do this for the rest of my life? Or you want me to quit and stay home all day everyday like a 1950s housewife?"

"No. I'm saying that I want you to start thinking about this family. What happens when we have another baby? Or if I decide to run for office? What happens to your firm then? Do you close it?"

"I do think about this family. More than you could know."

"Clearly. Because you never let me in anymore. You're shut off, you're this whole other person. And the worst part is, you don't even notice it."

Their voices steadily rise to the point where they are full on yelling. They hear familiar cries and she begins to stand. "I'll get him."

He puts his hand up to stop her. "No. You just, you sit and eat. You've had such a busy day. I've got him." He leaves the room, leaving her behind in uncomfortable silence.

He comes back down a few minutes later. She's holding his phone, watching something, tears rolling down her cheeks. She looks up when she hears the bottom step creek. "I was looking for a picture; a picture of Gerry for my new phone's wallpaper. But, is, is this from today?" And she turns the phone so he can see the screen. She's watching the video of Gerry from breakfast.

He gives her a small smile. "Yeah. I sent it to you this morning."

She pauses the video and looks back up at him. "Oh. I guess I broke the phone before you sent it."

"Yeah well, you really need to stop doing that Liv. Our phone bill is astronomical." And he smiles.

She laughs. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." And they sit in another awkward silence for a few seconds.

"What do you mean I'm another person?"

"You're just...you're not my Livvie anymore. We're not us anymore. We've become this couple that resents each other and doesn't communicate and argues for argument's sake. I don't know when we stopped, but we stopped being a team Liv."

She looks up at him with a solemn expression; she rests her chin on her folded hands and thinks. "Ok. Well let's fix that. Right here, right now."

He gives her a skeptical look.

"I mean, if I'm going to go into the fixing business soon, I should probably work on fixing my marriage first, right?"

He flashes her a small smile and nods his head. "I guess so."

She takes a deep breath. "So, I'm home more. No matter what. I'm home for dinner, and bath time, and cuddle time, story time. And I take spontaneous sick days. And I talk to you more. And we focus on us again, not just Gerry, or me or you, but us."

"And when you do need to work late, you call. And you stop taking out your frustration on your cell phone."

"Yeah. I'll just take it out on you instead." And she gives him a mischievous grin.

"And your new office is close and baby friendly." She nods in agreement.

"And no more fighting just for the sake of fighting. But Fitz, communication works both ways. You've clearly been upset with me for weeks, or months even, and you haven't said a thing. I'll try harder to let you in more, but you need to tell me what you're feeling too."

He contemplates her words for a minute; he gets up and rounds the table, pulling her up and flush against him. He takes her face in his hands and kisses her. "Ok well, right now I'm feeling that you look incredibly sexy in those pants and I'm tired of missing you while you're right here next to me. And I feel like I love you and really really need to kiss you."

She puts her finger to his lips. "Well I mean if you 'really really need to' then by all means..."

And he does. He lets go of all of his frustration and irritation and anger. And he lets their love consume him again.

* * *

The sun light wakes them up the next morning. His head is nuzzled in her hair; he breathes in deep and smiles to himself. He's missed this, he's missed her, he's missed the happy, the insignificant little moments together. He rolls over and looks at the clock. "Liv, it's almost seven. You're going to be late."

And she smiles against his bare chest, eyes still closed. "No court. I'm taking the morning off."

He smiles. "Well in that case-" and he flips them over and drops his lips to hers. But before things can escalate too far, they hear soft cries echo through the baby monitor.

She smiles against his lips and makes a move to grab her shirt. He watches as she walks out of the room, admiring the sway of her hips.

She comes back a few minutes later with Gerry. He's happily babbling and lightly slapping her cheeks, laughing at the faces she makes when he does.

She puts him down in the middle of the bed and snuggles herself back into Fitz's side. Fitz offers Gerry his hand and the little boy readily reaches out and takes hold if it for balance. He stands and bounces for a minute before awkwardly waddling up to his parents.

Fitz grabs Gerry around his middle and hoists him up into the air; the baby laughs and shrieks. He blows kisses on his belly and tickles the bottom of his little feet.

She sits back and watches father and son play, and she's happy she didn't go into work this morning, happy to just stay home and be a family, happy to have finally ended the perpetual fight between them. She smiles to herself, and then joins in on the fun.

* * *

**Ok please tell me if this makes no sense whatsoever. **


	20. Run

**So I'd just like to point out the fact that Olivia chucks her phone at the floor in 303. Enjoy**

* * *

"Go out with me."

She closes her laptop screen and gives him a skeptical look. "Go out with you? What are we, like fifteen?"

He laughs and wipes the food from Gerry's face. "Liv-"

She smiles. "Wait no, do we have to sneak around? Or did you clear it with my parents? Did dad give you the third degree? Does mom think you're a 'fine young gentleman'? They approve right?"

He shakes his head and chuckles as he stands to clear the dishes from Gerry's tray. He walks into the kitchen as she goes to free Gerry from his high chair. She shifts him onto her hip and makes her way to the kitchen. "And did you even consider Gerry's feelings on the matter?" She looks down at the baby and increases the pitch in her voice. "Hey Gerbear, is it ok for your daddy to take me out on a date tonight? Huh?"

And the baby smiles and yells out a loud shriek. She sits him on the edge of the counter, takes off his bib and toys with his curls. "Mama dada ahhhhh!"

Fitz turns and walks over to them, kissing the back of her neck, whispering in her ear, "I think that's a yes."

She picks Gerry back up and hands him off. She leans in and smiles as she kisses the baby's forehead and then Fitz's lips. "I have to go to work; but I'll see you later," and she touches Gerry's nose and he smiles. She looks back up at Fitz and winks, "and I'll see you tonight."

She's walking into her office as her phone chimes. _Gerry has a date tonight so we're officially on._

She puts her bag down and sits in her chair. _Oh yeah? Who's the mystery woman?_

She laughs when she receives his response. _Emmalyn_.

Cyrus is standing in her doorway. "What's so funny kid?"

She smiles. "Just my husband."

He walks farther into her office. "Ah yes, quite the charmer. He has a bright political future if he wishes to travel down that road."

She nods her head in agreement as he takes a seat in the chair across from her. "How can I help you, Cy?"

"Well, you can start by retracting your letter of resignation from the firm."

She gives him an apologetic smile. "Cy-"

"No, no. I knew it was coming. I just came by to say that if you ever need anything you can always call." He stands and Olivia follows suit. She rounds the desk and gives him a hug.

"I'm not going yet. You still have to put up with me for a few more weeks."

He goes to button his jacket once again. "People just have one request before you leave."

"And what's that?"

"Bring by that adorable baby of yours." He smiles and she chuckles. He goes to leave but as he reaches the door she calls out.

"Hey Cy, thank you for giving me a chance."

He turns and looks at her skeptically.

"I know you hired me because of your friendship with my father. But thank you for letting my prove myself."

"Olivia, I hired you because of you; not because of some long standing relationship with your parents. Don't sell yourself short, kiddo. If someone told me twenty years ago that my best partner would be a woman in her early thirties, I'd probably have laughed them out of the room. But you're special, Liv. You're rare and idealistic. And so is your husband. The two of you together, on Pennsylvania Avenue or anywhere else, now that's a scary thought. You'd completely revamp and change the game."

She smiles wistfully and he turns to leave. "Just something to think about."

And she does think about it. She thinks about it for the rest of the day. President Grant: she likes the way it sounds. But First Lady Olivia Grant? Not so much. She knows she wouldn't be the typical First Lady. She's independent and stubborn and opinionated and private and apolitical. She's had reservations about him running, but now, now she can see it. She can see it's something he was born to do; leadership courses though his veins. He's perfect for it, and she won't be the one to hold him back. Not anymore.

She picks up Gerry from her mother-in-law's and goes home. She changed her clothes and decides that it's too nice outside to stay in. She gets Gerry settled with a blanket in his stroller and puts on her rollerblades. They go all around the neighborhood, exploring new places, spending previous moments as mother and son.

Ever since their reconciliation, she's been trying. Trying to spend more time at home, trying to focus on her family, trying not to get so wrapped up in her work. And they've been happy. No more fights and screaming matches and silent looks of resentment.

By the time they get back home, Fitz is standing in the driveway talking to a neighbor. She rolls up and they both greet her. Fitz takes Gerry out of the stroller and puts him on his hip.

"Hey Olivia, I was just telling Fitz about Mr. McAdams down the street."

"Oh really? What happened to him?"

"The family decided it was time. They moved him into assisted living last weekend."

She reaches out and takes Gerry who was reaching for her, settling him on her hip. "Oh I'm sorry to hear that. Are they selling the house?"

"Yeah. It'll go on the market at the end of the month."

"Wow that's fast. So how're Sherry and Matthew?"

"Both are good. Loving college and the warm Florida sun. It was in the 80s down there this week."

"Wow must be nice." Gerry reaches back out for Fitz to take him, and he happily obliges.

"And how's your little guy? He's getting so big." He smiles at the baby and Gerry yells out, "No!"

"Yes you are Gerbear. You're a big boy now." And Fitz bounces the baby on his hip. "Give me a high five." And Gerry slaps his hand as hard as a baby can.

"Yeah, he just turned one a few weeks ago, right bud?"She runs her fingers though his soft curls. "I still can't believe it."

"Yeah it goes by fast. Blink too long and they'll be in college."

They all laugh and Olivia notices Gerry start to shiver. "I should get him inside. It's pretty chilly out here when the sun starts to go down. It was nice talking to you Steve." She takes Gerry from Fitz and uses her free hand to push the stroller back into the garage. She takes off the rollerblades and lets Gerry waddle through the door with just the assistance of a finger.

Fitz comes inside a short time later. "Em should be here around seven thirty."

"Where are we going?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out." He winks and then goes to sit on the floor and play with Gerry.

They get Gerry fed and bathed and ready for bed so all Emmalyn will have to do is put him in the crib when he falls asleep. They get themselves ready and the minute Em walks in the door, they say quick goodbyes and sneak out of the house, avoiding baby tears and cries.

Fitz pulls up to an upscale restaurant. They go inside hand in hand and get lost in conversation, in reminiscing, in each other, in the good times.

They're walking back out of the restaurant and she gets an idea. "Give me the keys."

He shoots her a skeptical look. "What?"

She holds her hand out. "Just give me the keys."

They get in the car and he looks over at her. "Well, where are we going?"

She chuckles as she pulls onto the road. "You'll see."

They drive for a few minutes in comfortable silence until she pulls up to an older building.

"Why are we at your new office?"

She unbuckles her seatbelt. "Stay here. I just have to grab one thing, I'll be right back." She comes back to the car and hands him a bottle of wine.

He's confused. "Liv, we have wine at home. What are you doing? And we can't drive around with this, it's already open."

She smiles, "Oh c'mon old man, live a little," and starts driving again. She pulls into an empty parking lot and starts to get out of the car. He just sits there, staring at her as if she's officially lost her mind.

"Get out of the car." He opens the door and follows her, two of his sweatshirts in hand. He puts one on and gives her the other to do the same. "Now can I be privy to where we're going?"

She points directly ahead of them, to he dimly lot swings next to the river. "Don't forget that wine."

He wraps his arm around her and kisses her temple. "Wow, we haven't been here since..."

She smiles up at him as they walk over to the swings, "yeah."

They sit and slowly swing, holding hands, passing the wine back and forth, drinking straight from the bottle, watching the stars, remembering the past, talking about the future. He leans his swing over to hers and kisses her slowly. "This is where I told you that I loved you for the first time."

She rests her head on his shoulder and puts the empty bottle down to the ground. "I know."

"We were drunk."

"I know."

"And delirious from finals week."

"I know."

He laughs. "Now that I think about it, that was a really shitty way and time to tell you that I loved you for the first time."

She picks her head up and playfully punches his shoulder. "Yeah. It really was. Can't tell the grandkids that story."

"Can't tell them our first date story either."

She laughs. "That wasn't our real first date. It was just two classmates sharing a table because there weren't any other ones available. I didn't even talk to you."

"No, you just spilt your scolding hot coffee all over me and then got up and left."

"I got you napkins. And I even apologized."

"You threw a napkin at me, gathered your books, and said 'Whoops sorry' as you walked away."

She laughs. "See, even back then I was the epitome of tact."

"It was one of your better moments, I'll give you that."

"Yeah, but nothing tops John setting you on fire at dinner that one night."

"Dumb kid ruined my favorite shirt. And I still have scars from those burns."

She kisses his neck. "Yeah, but they're sexy."

He pulls her up off of her swing and onto his lap. "Oh really?"

She nuzzles her face back into his neck and kisses it again. "Really."

They sit in peaceful silence for a few minutes, lost in each other. She looks up at him."You should run."

"What?"

"For office. I think you should run. I want you to run."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He smiles as he leans in to kiss her. "Thank you Livvie." He runs his hand up and down her leg and moves in to kiss her again.

She breaks away and smiles against his lips. "I think we should probably go home now."

"But with you I'm always home."

She laughs. "Sweet talk me all you want, but I'm not having sex with you in this park."

He laughs. "What ever happened to 'live a little'?"

She smiles and kisses his lips. "No." She picks up the empty bottle, stands, and pulls him up with her.

"Take me home, Fitz."

He surprises her when he picks her up; she yells out and laughs as she wraps her arms around his neck, stealing a kiss.

"Always, sweet baby."

* * *

**Review for me please! And happy Friday, yo**


	21. Sweet, Sweet, Sick Baby

**This literally doesn't advance the plot whatsoever but I have this strange feeling y'all won't really mind. **

* * *

They're laying on the couch, Olivia on top of him. Her face directly over his heart, listening to it beat. Forever in sync with her own. They lay there in silence, words not needed to be spoken, the simple presence of the other comforting enough. He closes his eyes and kisses the top of her head, inhaling the familiar scent of her.

The only light in the room is the soft flicker of the dying candle on the kitchen counter. She turns her head to look up at him, twirling the curls at the nape of his neck around her finger. She yawns and a few seconds later he does the same.

"Wow I didn't know having a sick baby would be more exhausting than a newborn."

He runs his hand down her back. "How long do you actually think he'll sleep tonight?"

She playfully rolls her eyes. "Not long enough, that's for sure. I was up with him all night last night."

He smiles and kisses her forehead, and they fall back into a peaceful silence. She feels his breath slowly even out underneath her as sleep encompasses him. She quickly succumbs too, her hand subconsciously wrapped tightly around the baby monitor.

He doesn't know what time it is, or what time they actually fell asleep but he knows that familiar cry. He delicately disentangles himself from her and turns off the baby monitor, allowing her to stay deep in her peaceful sleep. He walks up the stairs, rubbing his eyes, trying to stay awake

He opens the baby's door and sees Gerry sitting upright, clutching his favorite blue and green blanket, tears streaming down his face. Gerry makes eye contact with him through the dark room as Fitz walks over to the crib. Gerry lifts his arms up, pleading to be held, hoping the contact will relieve his pain.

Fitz picks Gerry up out of the crib and brings him flush against his chest, slowly and rhythmically swaying back and forth, rubbing soothing circles on the baby's back. He puts the back of his palm to the baby's forehead and cheeks; they're warm, hot even.

He kisses Gerry's head and walks over to where the medicine Olivia had picked up resides. He one handedly measures out the dosage and feeds it to Gerry. Gerry cries even louder, clearly not happy with the taste of whatever was just given to him.

Fitz walks over to the antique rocking chair that her parents had given them. It's the one she was rocked in as a baby. He gently sits down and takes off his shirt, hoping some skin to skin contact will help soothe the baby, comfort him. He takes Gerry's blanket and wraps it around the boy's back, running his hand up and down, whispering softly.

His sobs turn into cries which fade into hiccups, gasps for air, and then eventually, glorious silence. Fitz looks down at Gerry and sees his eyes are open, he's awake and sucking on his thumb. He sits there for another few minutes, continuing his soothing ministrations, but Gerry won't drift off the sleep.

Finally, Fitz tries to lay him back in the crib, but Gerry starts crying again. He sits back down and props his feet up, realizing it's going to be a long night. But he's happy to do it, happy to sit up with his sick son, happy to let her have a few hours of sleep after a long day at her new office.

They both eventually drift off to sleep in that position, Gerry's head resting above his heart, his tiny hand placed flat against Fitz's chest, Fitz's head gently resting on top of Gerry's, his arms wrapped tightly around the baby, a small unconscious smile on his lips.

Olivia finds them like that in the morning, asleep and peaceful and content.


	22. Let's Chat

She's sitting at a red light, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the music, thinking about what needs to get done today. Pick up Gerry. Grab the dry cleaning. Wrap up file on current client. Pick up some milk; maybe some eggs too. Get Dad a birthday card. Dad's birthday? Shit.

And she grips the steering wheel, mind racing. She doesn't notice the light has changed, not until she hears the horns and they bring her back to earth, and she drives down the road.

She's sitting on the couch, laptop pushed off to the side, watching Gerry play. Her mind is still racing, playing worst case scenarios; and she's trying to rationalize, trying but failing. She needs a distraction, and for now, she has the best one possible. She scoots onto the floor closer to Gerry and picks up two of his blocks.

He quickly stands and waddles over to her and points to the blocks, a stern look on his face. "Mine mom. Mine."

She laughs and hands them back to him. She watches intently as he tries to stack them all and accidentally knocks them over, repeating a process a few times, laughing each time them come crumbling down.

Gerry walks over to her and plops himself in her lap. She kisses the top of his head. "Are you hungry, bud?"

He looks up at her. And he smiles, which automatically causes her to smile too. "Me food."

She laughs. "Do you want to call daddy and see what time he'll be home so we can get dinner ready?"

He smiles as if he understood what she just asked. She picks up her phone from the edge of the couch and dials the number, putting it on speaker and handing it to Gerry.

It only rings twice. "Hello?"

And Gerry looks up at her confused. "Say hi Ger."

He looks back down at the phone. "Hi?"

She can hear the smile in his voice. "Hey buddy, what's up?"

She laughs. "Your son is hungry and would like to know your ETA so we can eat dinner."

Fitz chuckles. "I'm just pull-" but before he can say anymore Gerry hangs up the phone.

He looks up at her, a mischievous smile on his face. "Ut oh."

She laughs and lifts him above her head, blowing kisses on his belly.

"Ut oh is right mister. You're too young to be hanging up on us! You're still supposed to love me baby." And she gives him a sad look.

He closes his eyes and puckers his lips, moving an inch closer to her. She closes the gap and kisses him.

The front door opens and Fitz walks in laughing. He looks over to them on the living room floor and smiles. "As I was saying, I'm just pulling into the driveway."

He walks up and Gerry reaches out from Olivia's lap to be picked up by him. He puts the baby on his hip as she stands and places a chaste kiss on his lips. "Your son has learned the art of ignoring you already."

Fitz looks at him with a wounded smile. "You hung up on daddy? C'mon buddy we're supposed to be a team. It's our job to ignore mommy! You can't ignore me!"

Gerry laughs at his exaggerated faux emotional torment. Olivia slowly runs her fingers through Gerry's curls and looks back at Fitz. "I'm going to go make dinner. Can we talk later?"

He automatically looks worried. "Is something wrong?"

She gives him a small, forced smile and kisses his cheek. "Later." And as an after thought as she walks out of the room she adds, "go play with the munchkin. He missed you today."

He loads Gerry up into his stroller and goes for a run. His mind is racing now. What does she want to talk about? Does she hate her new firm? Does she want to close it? Go back to work with Cyrus? Work at all? Does she not want me to run? I could quit the campaign. It's not too late. Is her mom sick again? What if the cancer's back? What if she has it? She's been tired and moody. But it's from stress. And from having a child. She can't be sick. Can she?

He thought the run would clear his mind, he thought it would help, but it didn't. He walks back into the house with Gerry on his hip. He puts Gerry down and follows him into the kitchen. "Liv, what's wrong?"

She turns around and takes the fridge magnet out of Gerry's mouth. "Honey you can't eat these, they'll make you sick. They're yucky."

"Olivia-" And she looks back up at him, but before either can say anything else, her phone rings. And she runs to answer it.

She walks back into the kitchen a few minutes later. "They need me at the office. Are you home for the night or should I take him with me?"

"Home. But Liv-"

She kisses his lips. "Ew you're sweaty." And she laughs as she walks toward the steps. "I've got to go up and change. Take the chicken out in two minutes please."

She runs back down the steps and into the kitchen a few minutes later, kissing Gerry's cheek and pecking his lips as she grabs a banana off the counter.

"Aren't you going to eat first?"

"On a time crunch. We've got to beat the deadline for the eleven o'clock news cycle. I shouldn't be too long. Save me a plate. I love you."

"I love you too. But Liv-" But she doesn't hear it. She's already out the door, and he's left in the kitchen, stunned.

Gerry breaks him out of his daze. "Daddy here." And he hands him the sad face magnet from the refrigerator collection.

Fitz smiles wistfully at him. "Yeah, thanks bud."

He feeds them and gets Gerry bathed and put to bed. And he sits, sits and waits for her. He's tired, but won't sleep, not until she comes home. Not until he knows what's wrong. Not until he can find a way to fix it. So his mind wonders. And he sits, and thinks, and plays worst case scenarios, and tries to rationalize. Tries, but fails.

* * *

**My mind is literally mush from all this chem. Heisenberg and Schrodinger and deBroglie and lattice energy and MO Theory and a bunch of other random shit. Don't profs know I have priorities. Like this shit. Sheesh. Ok well enjoy this while I die taking an exam. If I don't make it out alive, I love you all**


	23. Talk to me

**So it's 1:45am and I'm sitting in the library with two other losers won don't go out on Friday nights because I feel like y'all have been neglected all week. Enjoy. And tell me what y'all think **

* * *

He's sitting on the couch, passively watching as the news stories cycle through, waiting for her to walk through the front door. He picks up his glass of scotch from the coffee table, enjoying the familiar burn as the rich liquid cascades down his throat. He hears the door open and turns in the direction from which the sound came, stunned by what he sees: her face void of emotion and eyes hollow brown orbitals.

She walks slowly into the kitchen, making a beeline for a long stem glass and her signature red wine. She pours herself a generous glass and downs almost half of it before she notices his presence behind her.

"Olivia?" And she downs the rest of the glass before she turns to acknowledge him. She gives him a weak smile, wipes a lone tear from her cheek, and straightens her blouse.

"My mother is dying," and before he can get a single word in, she adds, "and I might be too."

He quirks his head to the side and pulls her into an embrace, tightening his arms around her as she sobs into his chest. He softly chants, "I'm sorry, Livvie. I'm so so sorry," as he soothingly rubs her back. They stay in that position for a few minutes until he hears her attempt to even her breaths; she pulls out of his embrace and looks him in the eye.

"Livvie, talk to me."

She stutters as she tries to steady her voice. "I, I went to say happy birthday to my dad in person on the way home tonight, and, and her results were just sitting on the kitchen table. It spread, Fitz. It's on her lungs and, and her liver. The same way it was for Nana. She said it could be genetic, so me and Em-" voice drifts off but he caught the insinuation.

He slowly eases her over to the couch and sits her down in his lap and kisses her temple. "We're going to get through this together; whatever you need, I'll be there."

She leans her head against his chest. "I wanted to talk to you earlier about getting tested but now I want to. I need to do it."

He takes a breath as it suddenly realizes how real this situation is. He can't fathom losing her again and pushes all of the bad memories that come rushing back out of his brain. "Ok. Whatever you want to do, we can do it; but we do it together."

She closes her eyes and leans into him. He kisses her forehead and gently lays his own head on top of hers, getting lost in the peaceful silence.

* * *

Her eyes open the next morning as the sun slowly starts to come through the large bay window. She disentangles herself from Fitz, gets up, and walks down the hall, right into Gerry's room. He's lying in his crib, in the state between wake and sleep. She carefully lifts him out of the crib and his warm sleepy body clings to her, his unruly curls tickling her cheek.

She sits in the rocking chair cuddling the baby and begins to hum, the same way her mother did for her, the way she watched her do for Emmalyn.

A single tear falls down her cheek and Gerry slowly reaches up and wipes it away with his pointer finger. "No cry ma."

She smiles and kisses the top of his head, breathing in his intoxicating baby scent, the one she's fallen in love with. "I love you so much Gerbear. More than you'll ever know."

He sits in her lap for a few more minutes, as if he can sense that she needs this right now, that she needs to hold him, that she needs him to let her feel needed, and secure, and surrounded by love. But eventually, his patience and attention span wears out and he's squirming off her lap and running down the hall to the steps. He stops at the top and waits for her, knowing he isn't supposed to go near them alone. "Mom. Mom. Mom." And she smiles as she comes up behind him and tickles his tummy. She takes both of his hands and they slowly walk down the steps one by one together.

She lifts him into his high chair and goes to put on a pot of coffee. Fitz walks into the kitchen a few minutes later, sleepily rubbing his eyes. He stops to kiss Gerry's head before walking up to Olivia and wrapping his arms around her waist.

She spins around. "Hi."

"Hi." And he brings his lips down to hers. He looks into her eyes. "Are you-?"

And she gives him a sad look. "No. It just, it doesn't feel real."

He pulls her back into an embrace and she mumbles against his chest. "Cancer sucks." He just holds her tighter until Gerry starts to pound his tiny fists on his high chair tray, demanding attention. Fitz pours out a few cheerios onto Gerry's tray and he instantly is distracted and content again.

She looks back to him as she puts a piece of bread in the toaster. "I want to be there when they tell Em later. And I'm going to call the doctor's office and set up an appointment."

He rounds the counter and walks up to her, placing his hands on her hips, looking her in the eye. "Ok. But Livvie, you don't have to do everything today. We have some time."

"I just, I want to get this done. Okay? We need to know, especially if we're going to start thinking about another baby anytime soon. I probably won't be home for dinner."

He smiles softly and kisses her. "Ok. I'll take Gerry with me today, one of the staffers can keep an eye on him when need be."

The toast pops up and she grabs jelly and a knife on her way to the table. She sits next to Gerry and eats her breakfast, feeding him manageable sized pieces of toast and fruit from her plate. Fitz eventually joins them with eggs and coffee. They eat in silence, except for Gerry's occasional chants for more food and moans of approval.

She drives into work and just goes through the motions throughout the day, physically present but mentally in another world. She's sitting in her office and notices a framed picture on her desk; a picture from last Christmas, the whole family in front of the large lit tree, her mother proudly holding an infant Gerry. A single tear starts to form but before it can escape, she hears a peculiar knocking on her office door. She calls for whoever is at the door to enter, but she just hears another soft knock. She stands and opens the door, but doesn't see anyone, until she looks down.

"Mooooom," Gerry sings out with a wide grin and lifts his arms. She picks him up without a second thought and kisses both of his cheeks and his forehead.

"Hey buddy, what are you doing here?" He giggles and takes hold of her necklace. Fitz rounds the corner with a sheepish smile on his face and a large brown paper bag in his hand.

"I thought you could use some mommy-Gerry time since you won't make it home for dinner; and little man was hungry, so we have lunch too."

She smiles and kisses him as Gerry tugs harder on the silver chain. "Mmmm I love you." And she pries the necklace from Gerry's tight grasp and plants kisses all over his cheeks. "And I love you too mister."

They sit on the floor and eat, and for those few minutes, she forgets about everything else. She lets the love of their little family distract her, and she knows times will be hard in the ensuing months, but she also knows that she isn't alone. That she won't ever be alone, and that they'll all help each other through. That together, they can overcome.


	24. Bad News Is Good News

**Guess who has a five day weekend coming up! And guess who will be writing on the beach this weekend! This kid! Whoop whoop**

* * *

She turns off the scolding hot shower and wraps herself in a warm towel, steam rushing from the bathroom out into the cool bedroom. She squeezes toothpaste out onto her toothbrush, the same way she has every other day, but today it feels different. She can't figure out why, or put her finger on it, but for some reason deep in her gut, she feels some finality in the act.

It's the day. It's D day. The day when she'll know one way or another. Will her life be completely turned upside down, bogged down with preventative measures, and paranoid thoughts; or will she be free, and able to continue the life she loves? Will she end up like her grandmother and mother, scheduling their lives around doctors appointments, and scans, and surgeries, and chemo until the very end; or will she be able to work, and watch Gerry grow, and grow old herself, in Fitz's arms?

She rinses her mouth and gets dressed, methodically putting on each piece of clothing, because that, that is something she has control over. She can control which pair of shoes she decides to wear, but she can't control her DNA, her genes. And that is a terrifying notion.

She walks down the stairs and into the kitchen, surprised when she spots Fitz sitting at the island with the morning paper. "What are you doing here? You can't be here."

And he looks out over the paper in her direction, his glasses sitting on the edge of his nose, looking more like an old librarian than a young, up-and-coming politician. "Why not? From what I remember we split this house 50/50 when we bought it."

She smiles weakly as she walks further into the kitchen, right up to the coffee pot, pouring herself a large cup. "You know what I meant. You have a campaign event scheduled for noon. You should be there, prepping. Getting things ready. Making sure everything's the way you like it to be."

He tries to gracefully fold the paper, but can't manage to get the creases to line up, so he eventually just lets it fall to the counter in a jumbled mess. "That's what I hired Cyrus to do; making sure everything is prefect and directing people is his job, not mine. Today, my job is to hold your hand and be your husband."

He stands and walks up to her, kisses her gently, and pulls her into a tight embrace. She pulls away after a few seconds and looks him in the eye, a lone tear in her own. "I'm scared."

He rests his forehead against hers. "I know."

"And I miss Gerry."

He kisses her forehead and reaches into his pocket for his phone. "Here, watch this. John sent it to me a few minutes ago." And she presses play on the video as he turns to open the refrigerator, undoubtably to make her breakfast.

Gerry is being chased around Fitz's parent's kitchen, clothed only in his diaper, squealing and laughing as he thinks he's outsmarting his grandmother, avoiding capture. She can hear John and Fitz's father laughing in the background. But finally, John scoops him up and blows loud, exaggerated kisses on his round belly. Fitz's father calls out to gain the baby's attention and the slightly blurry phone camera zooms in on his face. "Ger, tell your mom and dad what you did last night." And she sees John whisper in his ear. The baby laughs; "I dank and illed zoooombies." John gives him a high five and looks into the camera, "translation: he drank- scotch like his old man- and then we annihilated some zombies." Gerry points his chubby pointer finger toward the camera "zooooombies!" And the three adults laugh. Mrs. Grant comes into view and takes Gerry from John's arms. "What they mean is, he drank some milk and ate some Halloween-shaped zombie cookies. Right Ger?" And he exaggeratedly nods his head in agreement as he giggles and shrieks, "zoooooombies!" "Ok say goodbye to your mom and dad, they'll see you later this morning." "Bye bye mom, bye bye dad." And he blows kisses as the video ends.

She places the phone back on the counter and turns to Fitz with a wide smile on her face. "Am I more worried about John's influence in the coming years or the fact that they probably fed him cookies for dinner?"

"Well considering you're not exactly the best example of nutrition, miss my-dinner-usually-consists-of-a-bag-of-microwaveab le-popcorn-and-a-large-glass-of-wine, I'd cast my vote for John."

"Maybe as senator you can pull a few strings and have him sent far far away next year."

He laughs. "Why would I ever send our adorable little baby away?"

She playfully slaps his shoulder and smiles. "He is pretty cute, isn't he?"

"Oh yeah. And he's all Grant. Doesn't have any of those crappy Pope genes." And the second he hears the words come out of his mouth, he regrets them. He wasn't thinking, it just came out. And he sees her face fall for a second before she can manage to recover.

"Livvie, I didn't mean anything by that. I'm sorry."

She forces a smile. "No, no, it's fine. I know. But c'mon, we should probably leave now."

He looks down at his watch. "Ok, but eat this first, please." And he hands her a plate with a breakfast sandwich and kisses her.

* * *

They're sitting in the waiting room, Fitz watching the muted tv, trying to read the subtitles and stay up to date with the latest news; Olivia nervously fidgeting her foot, scrolling through the calendar on her phone. He places his large palm over her knee, hoping the action will bring comfort; and it does, but only momentarily.

He checks his watch and kisses her temple. "Liv, your thoughts are so loud, they're deafening. Relax, take a breath." And he places his arm around her shoulders, drawing her into his body. She leans her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes, starting to relax into him, their bodies falling back in sync.

A nurse peaks her head out a side door, "Mrs. Grant?" And just like that, she's all worked up again.

They walk down a long hallway, hand in hand, following the nurse. She motions them into a large, luxurious office, four Ivy League diplomas hanging on the wall. "Dr. Peterson will be right with you," and she smiles before she makes her exit, closing the door behind her.

Olivia walks over to one of the two large leather chairs across from the oak desk and takes a seat as Fitz circles the office, looking at the nicknacks. He points out a photo of Dr. Peterson with President Reagan, "Look he's probably a republican." And she smiles.

"Come sit down before-" but the door opens before she can finish her scolding and Fitz quickly returns the picture to its place on the bookshelf.

"Ah yes, Ron and my father were old friends. Our families go way back, almost eighty years." And he smiles as he extends his hand to Olivia and then Fitz. All three take their seats, and Dr. Peterson takes a paper out of a manila colored folder.

"Ok, well, do you want the good news or the bad news first?"

She looks at Fitz and then back to Dr. Peterson, and Fitz places a protective hand on her thigh.

"Bad." She breathes it out barely above a whisper.

"Well, the bad news is that you had to get poked and prodded for nothing; and the good news is, you had to get poked and prodded for nothing." And he smiles as he hands her the paper that previously resided in his hands.

She looks down at it for a split second and then over to Fitz. He smiles and places a chaste kiss on her lips, both smiling as they turn back to face the doctor.

"Now, just because you don't seem to have the specific gene for breast cancer like other members of your family, this does not mean that you will never develop it. Nothing is one hundred percent in medicine."

"But it does mean the possibility of Olivia having it in the future decreases, right?"

"Yes Mr. Grant. But I still want to see Olivia for regular mammograms. And if you have any concerns, I expect a phone call."

"Of course. Thank you so much Dr. Peterson."

"It's my pleasure, Olivia. If you don't have any further questions, Phyllis at the front desk can get you whatever kind of paperwork you would like."

She pauses for a moment. "Actually, I do have one question." And she looks over to Fitz and quickly turns back. "It's ok for us to have another baby, right? It won't cause my body too much stress or anything?"

He chuckles. "Oh it will cause your body a great deal of stress, but nothing that you can't handle." He pauses and then adds, "So yes, your body is medically clear to sustain a healthy pregnancy."

"Thank you. Thank you so much."  
And they both smile and rise to their feet, shaking hands with Dr. Peterson before they turn to exit, Fitz's arm instinctively falling to her lower back.

"Oh and Mr. Grant," and Fitz turns back to face the doctor. "Just between you and me, you have my vote next month."

Fitz gives him a charming smile. "Thank you. It means a lot."

They leave the office, and as soon as they step out into the brisk fall air, he picks her up and spins her around, both feeling freed, like a cinder block has finally been lifted off their shoulders. She's taken by surprise, and laughs as he twirls her around, completely lost in his smile, and her own relief. He stops twirling long enough to kiss her, and she pulls back, needing oxygen. "Fitz, we're on a public street in the middle of the city."

He smiles and kisses her again. "I don't really care. If people have a problem with me kissing my beautiful, brilliant, perfectly healthy wife, they can just look away."

"You need to put me down so we can go pick up Gerry. I miss my baby boy."

He places her back on the ground and they walk arm in arm back to the car. "He's more of a toddler than a baby now Liv; he's almost two."

"He can be one hundred and two and he will still be my baby; he'll always be my baby."

He smiles at her and kisses her temple as they walk down the street, stepping in sync, breathing in sync, forever in glorious sync.


	25. Some Normal

She's suddenly awoken, yanked from her sleep, by a lack of oxygen. She reflexively jerks up and her eyes fly open, landing on chubby carmel cheeks and a wide grin. She pries the tiny hand from her nose and wraps Gerry tight in a bear hug, planting kisses all over his face, making him squirm and laugh and shriek.

He's finally able to worm out of her grasp and quickly relocates to the other side of the bed, bouncing up and down, giggling as the mattress shifts under his weight and springs back up. Olivia sits up and tries to coax him away from the edge of the bed, fearing that he'll lose his balance. He starts to, and she sees it happening, but before she can reach him, bring him back to safety, he's out of sight and there's a loud thud.

She pushes the covers off and is on the floor next to him in less than a second. He's sitting up, stunned. But he sees the fear on her face, and tears well up in his eyes as he crawls over to her. She opens her arms and brings him close, rubbing soothing circles on his back and he burrows his face into her neck, tears beginning to fall. She softly chants, "It's ok Gerry. You're ok."

Fitz runs in from the bathroom and sees them on the floor. "What happened? Is he ok?"

Gerry turns to look into Fitz's general direction, but doesn't bother to pick up his head off of Olivia's shoulder. She kisses the top of his head and stands, Gerry still wrapped up tightly in her arms. "Your son just went for a tumble off the edge of the bed, didn't ya bud?." And she runs her fingers through his hair.

Fitz gives Gerry and sympathetic look. "Hey Ger, where does it hurt?" And the baby motions to his elbow.

"Do you want to know what makes everything feel better?" And Gerry nods his head in affirmation.

He smiles and walks closer to them, slowly whispering in his ear, but purposely loud enough for Olivia to hear. "Kisses from mommy."

A small smile creeps onto Gerry's face, tears still in his eyes, as he picks his head up and looks back at Olivia. She smiles and kisses the top of his head, and them his forehead, and cheeks and shoulder and finally his little elbow.

"How's that? Any better?"

Gerry nods his head.

"You know what else makes everything better? Having daddy cook us all breakfast. Why don't you go with him and help."

She smiles at Fitz and he takes the hint, reaching out to take Gerry from her arms. He reluctantly goes, and Fitz kisses his head too. "C'mon bud, let's make mommy her favorite. And then after breakfast we can go get you your Halloween costume and see Nana." Fitz turns and starts to walk out the door, but Olivia stops them.

"Wait." And she walks up to them. "Here's one more for the road." And she kisses Gerry's elbow again. "And one for you too, Daddy." And she places a chaste kiss on his lips and turns back toward the bathroom, but she can still hear Fitz talking.

"Wow aren't we the luckiest guys in the world." And he holds his hand up waiting for a high five. Gerry smiles and whacks his hand as hard as possible. "I loooove mommy." "Me too, little man. Me too."

And she stands in the bathroom smiling to herself for a few second as she hears them finally leave the room.

* * *

"Zooooombie!"

She holds up a pumpkin costume. "How about this one, Ger?"

"Liv, he was a pumpkin last year. How about Buzz? You love Buzz, bud."

He kicks his feet against the kart and points his pointer finger in the air. "No. Zoooombie!"

Olivia shoots Fitz a knowing look. "I'm going to kill your brother."

He smiles. "But I thought he was your favorite Grant boy."

"We all know who my favorite Grant boy is. And John's trying to corrupt him."

"Does that mean I move up a spot on the list?" And he gives her a charming smile.

"Not a chance." And she turns back to Gerry and hold up a superman costume. "How about this one Gerbear?"

He studies the picture for a moment and his face lights up. "Yesssss."

Olivia smiles and tosses the package into the back of the kart. She starts to tickle Gerry's belly and he laughs and flails his limbs around. Fitz joins in, pressing kisses all over Gerry's face until he notices a few people standing in the aisle. He looks up at them.

"You're Fitzgerald Grant right?"

He takes a step forward, subconsciously shielding Olivia and Gerry. He smiles weakly. "I am."

The two older ladies turn to each other and smile. "Can we uh maybe take a picture with you?"

Olivia nods and he steps forward, posing for the picture with the women. "You have a beautiful family."

"We're pulling for you come November."

"Thank you, I appreciate it. Have a good day."

"You too." And they turn and walk away.

He turns back to Olivia and wrapping his arm around her as he kisses her temple. "C'mon lets get out if here and go see your parents."

They walk out of the store hand in hand with Gerry running circles around them, laughing and chanting "zoooombie."

* * *

**The calm before the storm. Get ready people **


	26. Horrorween Pt1

She's late for work, again. But she can't find one of her shoes. She walks out of the closet and down the hall, into Gerry's room. She opens his wooden toy box and sees her nude pump half buried under a plush teddy bear. She laughs to herself, thinking about how the child's personality has really been shining though these past couple months, and she pulls the shoe out, puts it on, and walks down to the kitchen.

"I think we're raising a little hoarder. This is the third time this week one of my shoes has mysteriously gone missing." She turns to Gerry and bops his nose. "And why is that mister?"

He smiles, and then shrugs his shoulders adding an innocent, "I don't know," as he shoves a slice of banana into his mouth with his chubby fingers.

She looks at him expectantly for a moment, "Well in that case," and she's tickling his belly and planting a few kisses on the clean parts of his face. "Happy Halloween Gerbear!" And she kisses his forehead one more time before she walks up behind Fitz, wrapping her arms around his waist, kissing in between his shoulder blades, resting her cheek against his back. He spins around and hands her her coffee and breakfast. "Your mom has chemo today, right?"

She nods her head. "At noon. Today's my designated day, so you've got Gerry?"

"Yeah. I've got a meeting with Dean Harb at one thirty about guest lecturing in the spring. I'm sure Professor Miller would love to see Gerry, being that he's one of the reasons Gerry even exists in the first place."

She smiles. "Thank God for Miller and his silly little backyard barbecues. I'll call you when I'm leaving the hospital. I love you." And she quickly kisses him and turns to Gerry, kissing the top of his head. "I love you too buddy, have fun with daddy today."

He shoves the rest of the banana into his mouth, and with chipmunk cheeks he voices his wishes. "All done; me go momma!" And he pouts when she shakes her head no.

She picks up the bib around his neck and wipes his mouth. "No bud, you have go with daddy today; but tonight we'll put on your superman costume and we'll all go for a special walk and get you some candy. How does that sound?"

He takes a moment to consider her compromise, and she can see the confusing etched on his eyebrows, just like his father. "Me costume now!"

Fitz laughs as he walks over with a small bowl of scrambled eggs for Gerry. "That is definitely doable. But not until you finish breakfast. Even Clark Kent needs his breakfast!"

Gerry starts shoveling eggs into his mouth and Fitz turns around. "I love you Wonder Woman, see you later." And he kisses her one last time.

* * *

She's sitting in the sterile white room, mindlessly flipping through whatever magazine she saw first at the grocery store; machines beep and people chat, the television a low hum in the background. She looks at the people coming in and out of the room, all looking rail thin, and frail, and utterly hopeless.

But then there's her mother, smiling, laughing, making jokes, knitting baby booties for a church project. While most others are living in the past, she's planing for the future. She's obviously tired and in pain; but she's strong, and humble, and unwilling to let cancer defeat her; she has that indomitable will, the drive to finish what she's started, to not leave her family even a second before she has to. To face adversity with a smile.

And Olivia is inspired by this. She's always wanted to believe in her mother's courage and strength, but now, she has concrete, undeniable proof of their existence.

She leans over and kisses her mother's temple.

The older woman smiles, "what was that for?"

"Just because I love you." And she picks up her beeping phone from her purse. She smiles and quickly turns the phone in her mother's direction so she too can see.

Her face lights up when she see Gerry, all dressed up in his superhero costume, holding up a piece of paper with the words _feel better Nana, we all love you_ written on it.

She hands the phone back. "That husband of yours is something else."

"He is, isn't he?" And they both laugh.

"But seriously Olivia, I'm so happy that you two found each other. Love like yours is rare, and beautiful. And it's comforting, because one of these days when I'm not around anymore, I know you'll be ok. We just need to find Em her Fitz."

"Well, Will is spoken for these days, but John is still an option." And they both laugh, drawing attention over to themselves, causing them to laugh even harder.

They finally settle down, Olivia goes back to reading about this months most fashionable stars, and her mother continues with her pink yarn. Olivia starts to receive a chorus of text messages but just turns the volume off on her phone and leaves it face down on the table.

"Honey, you don't have to sit here with me for the rest of this, I know you're busy. Go to work, take my precious grand baby around for candy, spend time with Fitz. You don't have to fuss over me."

She tosses the magazine onto the table and leans closer to her mother, taking her cold hand in between her own. "Ma, I'm here because I want to be here. I'm going to sit here with you and keep you company, and spend time with you, and distract you for as long as it takes for you to get better."

The older woman smiles. "I love you Livia, but do you know how you can really make me better?"

"How?"

"Find me a root beer float that's better than McGlenin's." And as an after thought she adds, "And give me another grand baby already."

Olivia laughs and rests her head on her mother's shoulder. "Just between you and me, we're already working on that second part."

Olivia's mother kisses her temple. "Now that is what I like to hear. I feel a little better already."

"Do you think it's a bad idea though? I mean, your second pregnancy exasperated the cancer. What if we're just pushing our luck?"

"Olivia listen to me, your results were negative; you're too much like your father to have my crappy genes. Go be happy; have some great sex; work your ass off; spend time with family; drink expensive wine; have some more babies if that's what you two really want. Live your life, Olivia. Stop being afra-" but before she can finish her sentence, Olivia is standing and sprinting to the tv in the corner of the room. She turns the volume up and turns back to her mother, horror in her eyes.

_...we've just got confirmation from authorities that there is an active shooter on the Georgetown campus. Shots were first heard at 10:38 near the administration building, two people have been taken to Georgetown Medical, their injuries are listed as critical._

"Fitz, Fitz had a meeting this morning with Dean Harbs about guest lecturing. He has Gerry. I, I, I have to go." And she picks up her phone and fumbles it in her shaky hands as she dials and runs out to her car.

* * *

"I THOUGHT I SAID NO PHONES. GIVE ME THAT DAMN THING NOW."

Fitz pulls the phone out of his pocket with his left hand and slowly turns to hand it over, managing to shield and cradle Gerry in the process. He quickly turns back around, keeping his body strategically placed between the baby and the gunman.

* * *

**Don't kill me yet!**


	27. Horrorween Pt2

"I THOUGHT I SAID NO PHONES. GIVE ME THAT DAMN THING NOW."

Fitz pulls the phone out of his pocket with his left hand and slowly turns to hand it over, managing to shield and cradle Gerry in the process. He quickly turns back around, keeping his body strategically placed between the baby and the gunman.

Gerry is clinging to Fitz's shirt so tight that Fitz can see his little knuckles turn white. He brings his mouth to Gerry's ear, "Gerry listen to me. I'm going to slowly walk over behind this desk; when I put you down, I want you to crawl under it and close your eyes, and stay there, ok? I know you're scared Buddy, but I need you to be brave. You can do it Ger, I love you." And he ever so slowly makes his way to the desk and watches Gerry curl up into a ball under it while the man dressed in all black is distracted.

"I said open the file damnit." And he points the gun at a secretary's head.

Fitz steps forward and raises his hands in the air to show he isn't a threat. "Hey hey, why don't we put down the gun, and talk like adults here. We can fix your problem without the gun."

He lowers the gun and turns. "And who the hell do you think you are? You don't know me, or my problem. Why don't you just shut the hell up and stay quiet like everyone else."

"If you told me the problem, I might be able to help. I used to work here."

"Did you sit on the admissions board?"

"No, I did not."

"Then I really don't see how you can help me." And he starts to turn back to the woman, but Fitz interjects.

"But I, I had a few friend on the board. I can help you. Why don't you just let everyone else go, and we can resolve the issue."

He thinks for a minute. "Ok. But you stay, she stays," and he motions over to the secretary, " and that stupid baby stays. Where is that damn kid anyway?" Fitz's heart races as he tries to think of a distraction for the gunman so he'll stop looking for Gerry. His mind is racing, but he's frozen. And the man is almost around to the desk, ready to look under it as the phone on the desk rings.

Everyone in the room freezes and his attention is quickly averted as the incessant chants ring. He looks over to Fitz and motions for him to answer the phone.

"Hello?" And he can hear the hustle and chaos outside in the background.

"Am I speaking with Samuel Paulson?"

"No. This is Fitzgerald Grant." Fitz turns around and looks the gunman square in the eyes as he continues. "Would you like to speak with Samuel Paulson?"

The man looks shocked. "Hang up. Hang up now."

He doesn't. "There are six of us in here with Mr. Paulson, but he agreed to release everyone but me and Ms. Greene. They're coming-" but before he can finish the phone is ripped from his hand and slammed back onto the receiver.

"No. I told you to hang up the damn phone! Why the hell would you say that? Now they think, ugh, you ruined everything." And he points the gun at Fitz.

"Wait! Wait!" And everyone looks over to the secretary who is now standing, her hands shaking as she raises them. "We can help you. Just let everyone else go. Mr. Grant and I can help you. Please let them go."

"Fine. Go. Everyone get out!"

Fitz makes eye contact with one of the students and motions for him to get Gerry and take him with them when they leave. He watches the young man lift Gerry into his arms and cradle his head into his shoulder, trying to block everything from his line of vision. They're almost out the door when Gerry peeks back and sees Fitz, tears in his eyes.

"Daddy! I want my daddy! Daddy!" And he's reaching back, trying to claw through the air to get to Fitz.

The gunman whips around, "Hey! I said the kid stays!" But he's too late, and they quickly scurry out the door and slam it shut, disappearing out of sight down the long hallway.

"Now get me into that damn file or he dies." And he calmly points the gun back at Fitz as he walks up behind the woman's seat.

* * *

Olivia is standing at the front of the police barricade, trying to get as close as they'll let her, when she sees him. Three adults run out of the building, the last holding Gerry tightly in his arms. The police force the three down onto their knees and assess them before escorting them away from the building.

She pushes through the crowd, calling out for Gerry. And by some stroke of luck, some indescribable bond, he actually turns around and hears her.

"That's my son. He's my son!" And one of the SWAT team members lets her through, and another hands a squirming Gerry over to her. He wraps his arms tightly around her neck, almost constricting her ability to breathe, and burrows into her neck, sobbing.

She's crying now too, kissing the top of his head, her face buried in his curls, not hearing anything that's going on around them. She finally feels a hand on her shoulder, "Ma'am? Ma'am? He needs to be checked out."

She looks up and nods her head, following the police officer to a nearby ambulance.

* * *

He's sitting over the open file, pouring over every last word in it, flinching when he comes across the last word on the last page, denied.

"Make the call. Call your friends on the admissions board. I want to know why." And he sees that neither are moving, making any effort. "MAKE THE CALL."

"Sam, why are you doing this? There are other law schools, better law schools. Not being accepted here isn't the end of the world."

"It was for me. My whole family was murdered four years ago today, and they did nothing about it. They ruled it an accident. But it wasn't! And if I knew anything about the law, I could prove it! And this, this is the school where they both went. I needed this, and you all ruined it for me. And I just, I wanted to know why."

"Im so sorry." And he thinks for a moment. "I'm a lawyer. I will look into their death for you. We can do it together. Just please put down the gun and end this already. No one else has to die today." And Fitz can see him considering his words, almost ready to end it all.

But just as quickly as he lowered it, he's raising it, and the door is swinging open, and there's yelling and smoke and chaos. And he feels it, a sharp shooting pain, stinging, burning. He clutches his left shoulder and falls to the ground in pain.

* * *

"Fitz! "Fitz?" And he opens his eyes briefly, the intensity of the daylight forcing them closed again. He opens them again, this time slower, and tries to crack a smile. "Hi."

"Hi."

Gerry finally removes his head from its place in her neck and looks down at Fitz. "Daddy?" His voice is timid, and fearful.

"Daddy's ok buddy. I'm ok." And he forces a small smile to assure him.

She tries to kiss his forehead as best she can, but they're walking quickly, and then loading him into an ambulance. The paramedic offers her a hand to help her up and she takes it. She sits next to him and watches as they assess his shoulder as they speed down the road.

* * *

She's sitting in the uncomfortable hospital chair, watching him sleep, holding the hand that isn't disrupted by a myriad of wires. She looks over at Gerry, curled up on the little couch in the corner, still dressed in his superman costume, refusing to take it off. She lowers her head on the pillow next to Fitz's and kisses his temple before she herself closes her eyes.

He wakes up a few hours later, groggy and in pain. He looks down at his left shoulder, white bandages covering the whole area; and then he looks to his right, Olivia's face in such close proximity, her loose curls flowing on the pillow. He takes a deep breath and turns his head to kiss her. She stirs briefly, and smiles in her sleep. He leaves his lips planted against her forehead.

"Mmmm, hi." And she's slowly opening her eyes and looking into his deep blues. She picks her head up completely and runs her fingers through his messy curls.

"What happened?"

"They had to remove a few fragments from the bullet from your shoulder. But they said you'd make a full recovery." And she smiles as she leans down to kiss him again.

"Where's Gerry?"

And she points over to the couch. "Your mom tried to take him home but he wouldn't stop crying out for you so I decided to let him stay here tonight with me."

He looks over to the couch and smiles. "He was so brave today, our little superhero. I'm kind of upset that he didn't get to go trick or treating though."

"One of the nurses gave him a ghost shaped lollipop and I let him have it before he had some dinner, he doesn't feel like he missed out in the least."

"Can you bring him over here?"

"Fitz, aren't you in pain? I don't know if-"

"Livvie please?"

And she smiles and kisses him before going over to the little couch and scooping Gerry up in her arms. She lays him on the bed next to Fitz and he immediately snuggles into his father's side. She brushes the hair from his forehead and kisses it, and then kisses Fitz one more time before she lays her head on they pillow too. "Thank you for coming back to me, and saving Gerry."

"Always."

They all three drift off to sleep in that position, finally calm and at peace again.


End file.
